A black spider arrived

in his bathroom door jamb.

A tiny thing he could only see with his reading glasses.

Its web, too much of a challenge to see without bending down.

So he learned little about its home.

A speck of dust,

But still, he watched it with apprehension,

eyeing it from the mirror, the toilet, the shower

while it stayed in one place, barely flinching at his movements.

Until one day, it hung, curled in death’s pose.

A shell of itself

And he congratulated himself

for leaving the spider alone, letting it live

in his space as he swept its remains into the dust bin.


Leave a Reply

Recommended Posts

Mixtape Murders

I’ve caught up on the Mixtaped Murders Podcast written and narrated by the talented Jamie Kovalsky and Kira Clarke. The amateur sleuth, journalist Lyn Hoff, continues to make connections and is getting close to figuring out who the serial killer is. If […]

C. Jean Downer
%d bloggers like this: