Poetical Encounter With a Spider
Spinders in My Head
An Autumn day, still early morn,
fresh dew reflects the world reversed,
sticky threads swirling,
and a cobweb in my face.
Damn you, the spider mumbles,
no food today.
Do you realize,
how much work it is
to build a house each day anew?
I looked down
and saw that she was right.
A thousand lines, orderly shaped
in spirals growing wide.
and only one controls each square.
A single vibration - and dinner is served.
(Now why haven't people thought of that,
no more heavy grocery bags to carry)
I'm sorry, I said,
You should light a lamp,
or use a neon thread in stead.
Where am I supposed to walk,
if you keep building your house
exactly where my footpath lays?
but she had left.
I turned to overlook my garden
and stopped breathing,
at least for a moment,
because the rising sun's light
had brought a million webs to life.
(There's beauty, even in little things)
From that day on,
I won't destroy a spider's home
if I can avoid it,
because - that night - I dreamed
about spiders in my head.
© 2017 Titia Geertman