Late art sinking to the bottom of the Cup love, silky fly catchers Express themselves from ceiling Hangings. Light catchers love to blink And the memories are framed Like self portraits taken In the mirror, The word catcher writes Tales from non fiction Using regional diction. The verbalized expressions Wear out the sleeves And soon no one will listen. But the wind catcher grabs all That blows through her web Spindles woven connecting Lives that never touched.









