Glass Life

(A Sequel to “Cobwebbed”)

We did not waddle uniform, 

nor were we coddled 

by the scruff of the neck.

We scattered, 

a myriad of spiderling eyes

glowing with dappled morning light.

Come winter, there will be only

the brothers that I can count, 

one for each of my unsteady legs, 

which skitter across the ice

to watch sunbeams slant from 

pane to pane to pane to pane 

of her mosaic stained-glass wings. 

Those silk shoes—

I spun them for her.

I will forever spin for her,

as she does for me,

between each spindle

of my final web.

Soon, this glass life will shatter me 

and my fragments will rest, 

sharp and invisible, 

forever underfoot, 

until I die a villain 

and she, a woodland wonder.