Sometimes, when life throws too much at you, it’s good to notice the small things. Things that exist quite happily without our help although we are sometimes a hinderance.
The eight-legged fisher
I marvel at the fisher of flies
waiting to grant audience
while centred in his garden orb.
I marvel at his skill to throw
tensile thread from sky-point
Who taught him how to cast his line,
construct with such precision
his cantilevered artistry?