It’s so beautiful in the early morning light,
diamond crusted and inviting, a place to rest
your lonesome, weary wings. You see those
mirror images of you in the dewdrops,
a swarm of kindred souls, wings beating for you.
You wonder, should I keep my wings whirring, too,
just far enough away to maybe taste
the nectaresque joys of belonging?
You know how it has snatched others in
its sticky tendrils. You see it festooned
with bundles of sarcaphagal husks,
the spoking networks, the concentric loom
of trap and tripwire. You get too close,
and it has you.
You’ll struggle and fuss, your signal louder
to the spiders who subsist the weak.
Aw, you’re too smart, too hip,
too popular to be caught and emptied,
wasted by a mere bit of gossamer. Right?
But that swarm of our dreams, standing out
as the brightest wings, you can taste it.
Yeah, come on, they’re all waiting, just for you.
All you have to do, my friend, is get close enough
to click ENTER.
©Joseph Hesch 2012