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THE WEB By: Monica Mack A spider spun a web of gold unnoticed in the damp and cold. What was the web this spider spun? breeze-ruffled grasses bathed in sun, filmy-green trees crowning the hills, gardens adorned with daffodils, skies of soft white and softer blue, fragrant red lilacs dipped in dew. The spider web soon snagged a fly, caught suddenly zigzagging by, forever caught on helpless wing. I am that fly; the web is spring. |
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