Isabel Chenot
spiderweb in the window
The angles from the spinneret
shift when I move my eyes. Silk thread,
hung on the compass of sunset,
revolves with needles: gold and red
they point through shadows at the sun
and moon, like the first fragile
lines of a world. 'Til shadow-blown,
something exists – radial
magellanic star-grist, or a
spiral nebulae-mothing ....
Teach me the art of this. Striae
my heart with world-shine out of nothing.
Bio
Isabel has always loved poetry. Some of her efforts, including translations from Spanish, have appeared here and there (including recently, Blue Unicorn, & in the past, Shotglass). A retelling of an old fairy tale ('West of Moonlight, East of Dawn') is due soon from Propertius Press.