Fragile as a spider's web
hanging in space
between tall grasses,
it is torn again and again.
A passing dog
or simply the wind can do it.
Several times a day
I gather myself together
and spin it again.
Spiders are patient weavers.
They never give up.
And who knows
what keeps them at it?
Hunger, no doubt,
and hope.
May Sarton 1912-1995
