Frank Hukill
FOR CHARLOTTE

Nothing like Hollywood has scared us
though definitely not a pageant winner
some of your cousins are sort of… pretty
almost, like an artist’s drop cloth

Colored like a camouflaged soldier
you do not draw out my urge to pet
I stand and marvel at your skill
of weaving, child of Arachne

As if to clean for company
you glide down one side of your web
living drop of condensation
on a glass of summered ice tea

Inspection of your strands reveals
a minor flaw you quickly mend
this corner of my shed your home
will be until you spin no more