It Was a Pretty Good Book


Still reading outside at a strange day's end,
I watched words drag their shadows

until one leaf braced a spider opening further
into a maelstrom of tiny, upside-down Ls.

Which startled a little hunter anole
tricked out in identical brown leaf color.

He belled his throat (having swallowed
what was left of the sun) to show he knew

the possible end of a pas-de-deux.
But at least they were full of each other,

lizard and spider mother.
And when, sleepless and changing

one plot for another,
we were drawn to that night's upward bloom

"Don't pause" was the only cloud-thought crossing
what rounded between the Star Crab's claws.