Spider Season

Overnight, seemingly,
the spiders colonize our windows
and refuse to be ignored.
If I don’t clear out the webs,
they triumph in their intricate,
ghostly way.
If I do clean them out,
I’ll neglect my writing.
So far, they’re
winning, those spinners.

Not that I’m losing. We choose
how to spend our time,
what gift of it we have.
In my tally sheet for the day,
I can score my writing hours,
a walk I took up the hill,
a call I had with my laughing sister,
a quick Facetime
with my daughter and her children.
No cleaning.

The webs can’t compete
until I return to my place
on the couch,
and the sun has shifted
around the globe
to another angle,
and there they are,
like frost but teasing,
delicate and out of focus
through my computer glasses.