BEFORE THE STORM

A black widow in the spring so bold
spinning and trapping with vicious hold
suddenly slows in the autumn cold--
in one night so quickly old.

Through the vast and creaking frame
at once her city and yet her nation
comes the universal traveler
who stumbles and is stopped forever.

One cool night before winter's ice
knives the stillness in brittle forms
an insect pays a worthless price
to find shelter before the storm.

Though light is shining,
we are strayed to the
cracks and crevices of our paths
and all the brilliance of recorded time
cannot prophesy a step new-taken.

Hear the whine of the widow's dance
to fasten a fly in poisoned trance
on puppet strings of frivolic chance
morning statues in frozen stance.


November 16, 1973