by Ed Gaudet

i wanted to listen

to white caps collapsing

down a vacant spiral

of feral spray, black

nostril agony bobs

furiously keeling in time

at which point light

splinters, a Spencer’s strobe against knotty pine,

dance-less and sinking

until shimmering shards

are swallowed, violent and unseen

i want to be called to the spider’s web;

come celebrate how tight

it grabs the iris, breathless

spinning a bridge of morning dew.

Ed Gaudet is a writer and software entrepreneur who lives in Hanover, Massachusetts. His work has appeared in Blood & Bourbon, Burningword Literary Journal, The Inflectionist Review, Panoply, Clade Song, Naugatuck River Review, Massachusetts Bards Poetry Review 2024, and Book of Matches, Lit.