A spider wove a black web over my right eye.
I cannot blink it away.
I wish it was a net my eye cast outward
to capture beautiful views.
Looking at the world is now like
looking through leaded glass windows.
It is not a parable placed upon the world.
It is not the crucifixion.
I cannot see it when I examine my eye in the mirror.
It feels disfiguring.
It makes the pristine snowfall grey.
It makes my white bed linen grey.
The spider web does not affect
my viewing memories.
Because the spider wove it in one night
I worry I age very quickly now.
copyright © 2023 Kenneth P. Gurney
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