Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Soul-spinning
Silhouette,
the orb-weaver,
severing the string,
spins itself another
star

Soul-catcher,
tracking over the
bones of summer
atop the mountain
close to you,
may too see
the hand of
God,
turned upward,
at the corner of Autumn,
along the edge of your smile,
close to me,
breathlessly