Cobwebs

Cobwebs, so white and thick.
A hole in each one.
I remember how my parents would take a broom
and tear up a nicely made cobweb with swirls, blackness and a hole,
black like rain clouds in the night.
I pray my parents never take down a fine-made cobweb,
thick with a deep hole,
only the un-fine webs.
But my mom said,
"Do you want to live like a slob or clean and nice?"
And, nice, I would say, "Clean and nice."
And my mom took down all the cobwebs,
even the fine-made ones, thick
with a hole as dark as rain clouds in the night.

Sashka Zungul
4^th Grade, San Pasqual Union