Cygnus the Spider

Cygnus is a spider

Who lives in my grandpa’s armoire,

He stitches his orb in right hand corner.

It is an ode of silk canopies

over memories

Stashed with scalloped edges

in a men’s dress shoe box

Dust dust


Some of grandma’s wool coats

from Chicagoland are stuffed in there too,

Florida humidity 

and mothballs

Mothballs, the treatless gifts

A few in each pocket neighbors

the rock Wrigley’s Winterfresh Gum

each slice dons a silver coat of its own


Cygnus will often tip toe on silken tight ropes 

weaved by the spew of his belly spinnerets,

Skewed and splayed

into each constellation of space and silence.