October Night

Spider silk spun in a single filament,
arching, disappearing into the dark,
swirling circularly like a jump-rope in the cool air
for a slow moving spirit to leap high,
twenty feet off the ground.
Oak, hickory and poplars
hold most of their leaves--
splendor of ochre, yellow, gold and red—
though enough have fallen,
to reveal lights from nearby homes
reminding that strangers are near.

Copyright 11 October 2004 by Ron Hudson.

Categories: poetry