A web hangs open outside the window where weeks of caregiving passed.
The spider wove her large web, a queen at the center of her Babylon. It became more and more intricate, shining outside the window under which I slept, as the weeks of caregiving wore on. One morning, I awoke to find her simply gone, the web gaping in the middle, leaving strands hanging, suddenly lacking purpose or function. Her queendom had become too grand for life to hold.
Sleep turned eternal
Cold face of rigor mortis
Finally at peace
-for my mother
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