writing across your
face
there was writting
across your face
it spoke of the wind
and its overwhelming qualities
a spider ran across
and i spoke to it
of freedom and my will
i caught it
with the sun and trees
some lines scrawled across them
with a butterfly
the rain and dirt
several mill workers
with a factory stock boy
with the time it takes
i carried the spider out
the window
feeling the wind
catch the page on which everything was written
shaking it
with the sound of passing cars and horns
an orchestra with its own
marimbas and chimes
pianos
and strings
to tie you up