To wound the heart is to create it
I felt it flit across
the back of my hand
before I saw it
a fleeting shadow
a large spider
already gone
before the stomach drop
the untaught unease
I saw another stationed
on the orchid’s leathery leaf
another where the garden
abuts the foundation
another tracing the fall line
of the shower
I leave them alone now
some say age
make you less tolerant
but it is softening me like a blow—
house spiders
this as much their home as mine
and there are worse things
that linger unseen in the dark
Wow, I really enjoyed this. At first, I was caught by the topic, as a lover of all things with numerous legs, then by the structure, and finally, the innocuous, but rather dark, final verse. 💙
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