spider

there's a spider
in my bathroom

and since I don't know
whether there's a god or not
whether there's afterlife or not
whether we are that important
or not

I don't know
whether this spider
is really a spider or my father
or my mother
or not

this spider winters here
spending its days
basking in the electric sun
above the mirror
this strange and snowless
cold December

the white latex housepaint
is this spider's flawless beach
each drop of condensation
a tidal pool

I used to fear spiders
my sister taught me how
my father and mother then punished me
repeatedly
for expressing my fear
but no one ever told me why
I shouldn't be afraid
or why I shouldn't tell my fear
except to mention
that I was doing it too loudly

I won't kill this one
or any other
because now I know
spiders eat fleas
and other drop-by-drop predators


by Sara, copyright 2001, all rights reserved