"A Spider"

Written By

William L. Houts

Sprawled in my favorite chair,

I found a spider striving down

my sweater's cotton roads;

uncruel, I meant to brush her

from my collar to the floor,

but a brainless finger crushed her.

Drunk on ideas the size of salt,

her witty legs, those marvelous legs

had skittered her down the wall

to vistas of heaving; the ebb

and flow of my breathing.

A ruined husk. I didn't reckon

the difference between our lives,

the stellar gap between a spider's

life and mine: and this was my task,

for if it exists, a reckoning spider is

truly a monster, a foe to be fought.

But she was no monster,

and I was only a man in a chair,

reading, with no ill intent: and yet

that tiny walker died, a small

color in the world gone to gray

at my blameless finger's end.

William L. Houts lives in Steilacoom, Washington, where he resides with his Mother, sister and two or three cats, depending upon their mood. He enjoys writing, mudding, and consuming vast quantities of sushi. He composed "A Spider" using JFW 14 with RealSpeak Daniel and Word.