RYAN ALAN WILSON'S POEM ABOUT HIS MOTHER ROBERTA KELLY'S SPIDER COLLAGE

The spiders spoke of past times
Hiding in the shadows
Winding up to cast lines
To catch the sleeping cattle Or,
the sheep, if you will I won't
But, that's beside the point
Going in deep for the kill
They don't - they just ride our joints
Until we're broken
However, some may be made of stone
The one to weed the garden
and call his chickens home,
by Ryan Alan Wilson, 2016