The Web

I weaved it soft, this web of mine
In days of anger, in days of love
It held the weight of dreams and fears
It caught the fall of slouching wills.

I laced it fine, this net of days
Along the hem of barefoot joy
It kept us warm, it kept us close
Gently knit of silent prose.

You’ll never need a safety-net
I know, and yet I weave my web.
It’s there to hold fast, and to seize
The happiness, and love, and years.