Fog wanders in and then warms off
Moving almost like the ocean’s tide
Rolling silently and ever so steadily
It is found sleeping on fall mornings
And visits where garden spiders spin
Marking landscapes with silver webs
I thought that spiders built their nets
For the last flying insects of summer
Their webs hardly ever catch insects
During autumn’s damp and cool time
I wonder if spiders seek water instead
Just before their winter sleep arrives
Fog’s mist can pass through any hole
But not through perfectly made webs
These webs can catch the autumn mist
Better than they will hold an insect
During this misty time of the year
Little diamonds of perfect water
Distilled from autumns moist air
On silver strands of golden sun
Do spiders use this water of change
In warm cocoons of endless sleep
To cushion the change that captures
Winter spiders in a mortal web of time
Where stillness can hide the truth
Spun into the evolutionary cloth
Of the blind ever-seeking future
Until life finds its own passion
And caries the spider with it
