But the cobwebs got him
That golden boy
The webs he wove 
And wove
Over forty years of our separate lives

Until I can just glimpse him
Deep in his tunnels.
A golden orb he gave me then
And made my world
A shining universe 
That glows yet.

He kept on spinning
His patterns of habits
And mending and tending
And staying still
And now he is trapped
Within the spirals

And I 
I stand aside
Glorying that the boy 
Looks out yet
But wondering what to feed him now
Reluctant to offer
The dead flies on the floor.

I walk away 
His jaws move ceaselessly
On nothing.