Entrenched.

Entrenched.

Settled in.

Spiders do it so well

Waiting

Unmoving

Unreflective

Their heads in the moment

Or is it the past?

Perhaps they would be happy

To be favoured

With a tasty treat,

Meeting a dietary requirement

May well be all they seek.

True reflection

Is for the birds

Who always seem to be in search

Of a better future

Chastising one another

Carping,

Henpecked,

Migrating to warmer climes,

Rather than being frozen

To their perch

For the duration.

If I look out

Onto the world from my

Small space

Do I see much of anything

Will I dream?

Spend time

Looking back

Projecting forward.

Is that how poets come to sit

For so long,

In search of their future past,

A conscious introversion?

Engrossed in watching,

Enthralled by waiting,

Holding on

To the sides

Biding time

As a world slides slowly by.