Spider webs dangling from mesquite trees

A spider knows where to step to avoid entanglement,

But my tongue just trips over itself,

Shoes untied

And neither foot right.

I Always seem to take the worst falls

and

Never land on my feet,  

Internally dizzy and reeling.

It seems I am,

Not arachnid or cat.


It seems I am,

A vessel,

A jar

for your troubles.

But leaky.

And I take no responsibility for what I don’t retain,

It slowly drips away leaving

A dark spot on the concrete

The residue of your life

Soon to evaporate and mix with

Atmosphere.

And so, the spot on the concrete turns monochrome grey again

And the jar is put away

Under the cupboard

Where spider webs gather.

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