Abandoned Cobwebs

Abandoned cobwebs left to gather dust.
Draped gossamer rags
Discarded and forgotten with the lost and found
In the cloakroom that is the attic.
Suspended between rafters and roof tiles.
Clinging wistfully from all surfaces
Impartial to texture, shape or purpose.
Plastered vacant traps
More numerous than posters on an adolescent’s bedroom wall.
The minute slipstream of careful movements
Is enough to send the ghostly sails billowing and reaching with spindly strands.
Their constructors crawl silently having cast their carcass net
Prospecting for morsel nuggets,
Struck with goldfeverish hopes of sustenance .
Time and again, they pan their webs into the aphotic streams and
Mines of the Attic.

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