Natural History(a letter to Katherine, from the King Edward Hotel, Toronto)
The spider, dropping down from twig,
Unwinds a thread of her devising:
A thin, premeditated rig
To use in rising.
And all the journey down through space,
In cool descent, and loyal-hearted,
She builds a ladder to the place
From which she started.
Thus I, gone forth, as spiders do,
In spider's web a truth discerning,
Attach one silken strand to you
For my returning.
E.B.White
(Annie here: Walked into a spiders web tonight on the way home from the studio. I am sure this web will reappear every day across the porch all spring long, so I will do the crazy lady arm dance to get in the house from now on. One of the things I love and don't so much love about spring. But this poem will forever be one of my favorites.)
2 comments:
a poem like that makes me wonder why i do anything besides read poetry... (oh and maybe that's a little payback for your thread trick on Matt:)
ooo..lovely poem. Oh no..if you're getting the webs across the doorway..I will be soon too..time to do the arm dance :)
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