tiny spider hanging from a wisp of web
floating from the overhang of a riverside bench
to and fro within the gentle wind
looking large as a swallow darting through the sky
over Han waters whispering by
comparable to a distant auto in size
or masking a noisy helicoptor in its shadow
egret or crane, whatever your name
stand mid-stream on a boulder the same
and a butterfly fluttering by
is silent but to bretheren cry
see the vanishing point of a sparrow
or see the great river get more and more narrow
squeezing fish like glue in a fist onto the riverbanks
spider, spider, to an ant you're a feast
and big frogs in their little ponds
hop for their lives in an earthquake shaking
between the earth and baking sun baking
where nuclear-armed Americans
do what only comets have done
to a tiny spider's dreams
12-3-13
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