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More poems by Raymond CarverRaymond Carver | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Raymond CarverBooks by Raymond Carver

The Cobweb

Raymond Carver

A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck
of the house. From there I could see and hear the water,
and everything that's happened to me all these years.
It was hot and still. The tide was out.
No birds sang. As I leaned against the railing
a cobweb touched my forehead.
It caught in my hair. No one can blame me that I turned
and went inside. There was no wind. The sea
was dead calm. I hung the cobweb from the lampshade.
Where I watch it shudder now and then when my breath
touches it. A fine thread. Intricate.
Before long, before anyone realizes,
I'll be gone from here.


Anonymous submission.

Added: 12 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 20 Jul 2018 8:08 AM | Viewed: 6967 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5975/ | Viewed on 20 July 2018.
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