Dying Light

From my porch
I watch thunderheads
battering high noon
into bruised twilight.
I see you climb
from under eaves,
by a pressure change.
As the storm inhales
you leap and spin,
leap and spin
your web — knowing
your time to build
is fleeting.

Ryan Stone

23 thoughts on “Dying Light

  1. Hope is like a spider’s web..incredible strength within the fragilest of strands. Don’t know why but this came to my mind. The repitition (towards the close) certainly packs a punch to reesablish the workings of hope, symbolised so beautifully by your web of words. The spider here is only an unsuspecting conduit to give us a glimpse of your brilliant mind. You are as great as ever, Ryan.
    P.S. sorry about the unsolicited ranting. Can’t sleep. Lol. And I may be completely wrong about the spider, in which case I’ll say “hey you made me think”. πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is life for the spider and for most of us – making hay when the sun shine. “Bruised twilight” is an awesome image. Great poetry and image!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your poetry is always beautiful. Somehow you’ve made spiders poetic which I never thought was possible. Good on you, I still hate them though πŸ™€

    Liked by 1 person

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