The Heavenly Choir after It Fell on Florida
The spider web comes
Hot against his face; August
In damp Kulaqua.
In Florida humidity comes full
On like a curse. A thunderstorm comes down
In swashing curtains made of wet warm wool.
A coolness follows but then comes the frown
Of yuk, that clinging wet again. The bugs
And spiders just hold on awaiting sun
To raise the temperature (smothering hugs
Once more), all back where it had first begun
When Satan clamped his hold on Eden. Move
As best you can but evil follows you
And sticks against your skin. You can’t disprove
The web that hangs against your lids, its glue.
Its glue is there to trap the buzzing wings.
A silent devils’ chorus meanwhile sings.
~ Phillip Whidden