THOSE WHOSE THREADS ANNOY US

When I step into the tunnel made of trees
early in the morning
I often take a stick
and use it as a wand
to ward off spider webs
that in the past
have laid themselves upon my forehead.
Invisible, they cling to us intruders
who mean no harm, but harm.
Surely we alarm the little ones
whose threads annoy us
just enough to make us fuss.
How they must regard the walkers
who destroy their fragile work
is a matter seldom pondered.

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