Now I have a pet spider
I guess she belongs to me
She was laying on cement
Under my favorite tree
At first I was afraid
And poked her with a stick
Then tried to pick her up
When her legs started to kick
It must be a reflex
I took her in my studio
And laid her on my desk
I drew her with a pencil
Dark shadows made her fierce
Immortalized her body
On paper it was pierced
A week later when I touched her
Her legs moved again!
And again I reasoned reflexes
And put away my pen
But tonight I flipped her over
To draw her corpse once more
And this time it was clear
She had yet to cross death’s door
When right side up she is still
Appears to be dead as can be
But when she’s on her back
Her life is plain to see
Can a spider last this long?
Can she go for days and days
Without water to sustain her
Or flies caught in her maze?
Perhaps I’m a chosen witness
To her last days of life
As I have been to others
Into death I am midwife
She moves her legs in rhythm
In sleepy peaceful time
And I watch her in this place
And carry her with this rhyme
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