I saw this spider weaving so furiously, so diligently
without distraction or pause
The consummate artist
determining a masterpiece, incapable of flaws.
You’d have to be a genius designer
to create a work like Goya’s Forge
Spin without tiring or ceasing
Your sticky classic, those great symphonic cords
That tiny yellow abdomen twisting
The pieces, every section
Like the stones at Notre Dame
Is there any doubt your next selection
Will exceed your designers love of perfection?
Little friend, your work is such a joy
Of practicality and awe
May I reflect you more —
May I watch you and only pray
For such order and beauty
In my own life
If only for a single day.
