a layer of cobwebs

sticks to my fingers like candy floss

but does not taste of strawberry

sitting stale and bitter on my tongue

yet cannot be swept aside


a patina develops on surfaces

reflecting only blurred images

the true grain of the wood is lost

polishing no longer an option

cobwebs gather


7 thoughts on “Cobwebs

  1. i like the imagery. May I suggest something like:

    there’s a layer of cobwebs
    that stick to my fingers like floss
    but does not taste of strawberry,
    stale and bitter on my tongue.

    Patinas form surfaces, reflect
    yet blur images and the true
    grain of wood can be lost.
    Polishing’s no longer an option.

    I hope you don’t mind. It’s just a rough sketch of how the poem might be tighter

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