the ugly earring

may it begin with breakfast in bed

complete with toast, vegan margarine and half a canister of cinnamon.

I am reaching to find you Spider Woman.

I am a woman without a tribe.

Patternless with an empty loom, cheap and manufactured,

like the ones sold en route to the Grand Canyon.

A song from the weaver has failed to come

during the monsoon, there is only rain!  

I struggle with my first stitch.

**

Today young weavers are instructed to find a spider web in the early morning dew glistening with sunlight and sparkles and place the palm of their right hand upon the spider’s webbing without destroying or damaging the web, and the gift of weaving will be transposed into the young weaver’s spirit forever.