To a Spider in Its Web – by D. Walsh Gilbert

You have claimed this foggy corner
of my home
as your own
world, your whole
world, tethering sash
to door frame.
You’ve chosen
the crack
where kitchen warmth
leaks out in winter,
and calls
to nest-seeking beetles
and frost-weary flies—
any living bit to stick
to your threads
until surrender gasps.
Tendrils entangle us
the harder we struggle.
You, on the solid board
at the sidelight window,
you stretch
to where my hand has only touched.
A fragile reaching.
Little orb-weaver
with your lines
of spinneret silk,
your home
of filament
is so different from mine—
so delicate,
so intricate,
so ephemeral.
Each strand’s a glimpse
of possibility,
and I don’t know
how to open
my door now
without destroying it.


D. Walsh Gilbert is the author of Ransom (Grayson Books), Once the Earth had Two Moons (Cerasus Poetry), and imagine the small bones (Grayson Books), a full-length book of poems in communication with the art of fish and birds. A double Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has appeared in Gleam, The Lumiere Review, Black Fox Literary Magazine, and Thimble Literary Magazine, among others. She serves on the board of the non-profit, Riverwood Poetry Series, and as co-editor of Connecticut River Review.