Well, here it its, my first poem for April.
Spidey
Living in the wall,
on the wall,
or off wandering,
it was with us
for several weeks.
Big and black
it was a silent presence.
I called it spidey,
and wondered
why it was there.
Then, on Good Friday
it hung from the ceiling
on a single silken strand
seven legs curled up,
one holding on tight.
There for days
unmoving, non threatening,
but constantly
present and dangling . . .
Was it alive?
Easter sunday, it fell,
plunging from up
near ceiling
to down, on floor.
Dead.
I miss you spidey.
Your hole in the wall
near the clock
reminds me now
of life and death.
Lovely! I’ve had the odd “house” spider as well…funny how they can be such a strong presence.
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This spider, it was so black and so present to me. And now it’s gone . . .
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a simple but effectice poem with the Easter theme of death and resurrection reversed. I too grow fond of the odd spider I find in the bathroom.
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Thanks for your comment John.
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This spider was on the wall opposite me as I sat at the table to eat. It didn’t do any harm, and we didn’t do it any harm either. I still feel sad about its death…
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