I felt a tug, and then a pull
And like the spider’s good night’s work in the morning wind
The cotton thread on which I hang, is reeled back in.
What I thought was infinite,
Is finite. No more party streamers
Or ensigns on Ocean liners.
I know I am lucky
To have got this far without snag or break.
Yet I can’t help, I can’t help but wonder….
This cotton reel. My life.
If only I could make it run and run,
I have so much more to weave til i am done.
1 May 2015