Lonesome spider,
Lone so me
yet I do not cling
on a desert ceiling.
I cling to terra
testosterone in a
field.
The one I glance at
on my way home.
A space set apart
to bend my neck
to the little low
creatures and
blades bendable.
Lone so me
set apart for
moments at a time
for restoration
and grazing.
I do not cling
on a desert ceiling.
I rest in spring
and solitude.

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