For weeks I have
whispered to a fat
black spider outside
our kitchen window
as I rinse dishes
and plunge coffee.
Now she is slim
and there are full stops
on her web lines.
Luckily my wife
slices carrots,
dices spuds.
If they stay steady
steamy light
will not betray them,
whispered blues
will lullaby.
- Andrew Burke
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