The Web

by Sam M. Phillips

There is a tiny spider

That has built its web

Between my shoe and the floor,

I’ve always thought

Of these spiders as lucky,

The new dawn sun catches

In the gossamer strands,

Spreads like a rainbow,

Wafts in the breeze,

I’d like to say I am happy,

And maybe later I will be,

But now I am too tired

And haunted by dreams,

I can’t get up and walk,

I do not have the motivation for stories,

Poetry or reading is all that is left,

Perhaps they will help me shake my mood,

Or is it caught

In a web I’ve created?