« Come One, Come All Elders | Main | Panic - A Good Idea »

Monday, 21 May 2007

The Spider

[EDITORIAL NOTE: This is the second in an ad hoc series that began with an exchange between Leah and Norm Jenson in the comments section of Norm's story, The Ant. Who knows, perhaps it will continue.]

By Leah Aronoff

I am heartbroken
I may have destroyed my latest pet.

There, on the bedroom window, was hope
In the form of a three eighth inch spider.
Kept me company
as I applied my makeup.
Constantly on the move
Miniaturely speaking.
A sixteenth inch here. A sixteenth inch there.
A lot of legs took those steps. Six? Eight?
Uncountably fast.
Were two of its legs antennae?
Maybe all of them were.

My new pet was discreetly glamorous.
Its black thighs
(ok to say thighs?)
sprouted delicate beige feathers
(ok to say feathers?)
The little black body
sported three or four stripes
perhaps yellow bordering on orange.

Every morning I said Hello.
Not out loud.
That would have been too silly.
But one morning I whispered Hello.
Afraid a speaking voice would stress.
Then I whispered the start
of a little conversation.
Too much?
Did the whisper seem a tornado
to my little pet?
Whatever the cause
my spider is gone.

Today there were two bright red spider mites.
They stained my index finger.

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post