fragment

Still, that thing I'd call a soul is
a swift-moving shoal of tiny fish, darting---
spiraling joy around its liquid heart

spider morning

The morning sunlight caught
the edge of a trap-door spider's burrow,
a deep, bold circle proudly silvered
with fresh webbing.

The light was such that I
could look down far enough to see
her long brown feet drawing quickly deeper;
Good morning, spider.