Chasing Spiders

Chasing Spiders

in the center of the petals,
stiff stems like the
legs of a dying bee.

across the cracked
veins split open, roots
knotted and coiling.

anticipating whisper-thin
movement, legs stumbling
on taut circumstance.

in the corner, orbs
like polished mancala stones
open, close the silence.

The dirt stirs, tornadoes
insignificant. These needles
pressed to callous flesh.

And you.