Spider Crystal Ascension
The spider, juiced crystal and Milky Way, drifts on his web through the night sky
And looks down, waiting for us to ascend …
At dawn he is still there, invisible, short of breath, mending his net.
All morning we look for the white face to rise from the lake like a tiny star.
And when it does, we lie back in our watery hair and rock.
Though he’d never remember it, Mr. Wright once sat across a desk and gave me the best compliment a young, redneck poet could ever receive: “Hey, nice boots.”