AT EITHER END OF THE WEB
She spins by moonlight,
weaving wet strands
from mailbox to brass knob,
binding my door shut with her silk.
Each morning I claw at the web,
unraveling her mending from the night
before. She watches from behind
a clapboard, waits for darkness.
What is this web to her
that she will not surrender
but patiently repair my damage?
Am I connected to the strands
like the crumpled moth trapped
in sticky tangles in my hand,
or like a nightmare snared
in a dream-catcher? What is this thing
I rip apart--some kind of primitive
survival map whose language has been lost
to me? Just as her instinct is to claim
this space, mine is to tear down obstacles.
Neither of us will back down. One has to go,
be banished from this struggle over territory.
Perhaps this is the way all wars begin--
small battles fought in strands of gossamer.
Regina Murray Brault, 72, this year’s 2010 National Senior Poet Laureate, is a retired homemaker from Burlington. She is a returning Senior Poets Laureate winner at national (1996) and state (2009) levels. She leads The Cherry Lane Poets monthly workshop in Burlington. Regina is a widow. She has three children and six grandchildren. She has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Her sign is Aries.