Eight Legs of Grandmother Spider

[yarrowkat]

Eight Legs of Grandmother Spider
by Catherynne Valente

1

I will go,
said a double-jointed voice
out of the dark.

I will fetch the sun
from the country of fire
and bring it back
safe as bread.

In the black,
the only sound
was icicles jangling
on frozen fur.

No,
said the animals,
huddled one against the other,
Possum will go.
He is bigger than you,
and he can hide the sun in his bristle-tail.

Balanced on her basket-web
over the lightless water,
Spider shrugged
and sighed.

( I was four -- )

Throw Roses, by Carl Sandburg

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

Throw roses on the sea where the dead went down.
             The roses speak to the sea,
              And the sea to the dead.
Throw roses, O lovers-
              Let the leaves wash on the salt in the sun.

Something About The Wind | Sidney Hall, Jr.

[exceptindreams.livejournal.com]

"Something About The Wind"
Sidney Hall, Jr.

There's something about the wind coming off
the ocean, the waves washing the rocks

that makes a person who is quickly annoyed
by cigarette smoke and men
putting nails into roofs

forgetful and unconcerned.

If you are easily disturbed
you need to get an ocean.