COBWEB

 

The early morning light  

filtering through the oak

 

turned the cobweb

hanging there

 

                      invisibly

 

into a shimmering

stitch of silk.

 

It was the only thing to see

in that moment,

 

in the vastness and silence

of the landscape

 

along the winding path,

and they both saw it.

 

Moments of this kind

are so delicate,

 

so fleeting, in a forest

heavy with frost.