spider – #9

One day I walked carefree through woods
acred behind my childhood home, only to return
red-skinned with fast-moving blotches rising up
that morphed soon enough to full-body swelling.

I was immersed in cold water with baking soda
as my older sister gasped alternately
with laughter and disbelief at the sight growing
before her eyes across my body.

Not only was my walk carefree but apparently
careless as well: I had walked right through
a red spider mite nest, to which I am
obviously quite allergic. Ever since

when I encounter spider webs, I react
(overly, perhaps) by flailing my arms to release
the sticky threads that would cling to me,
with apologies for disrupting a day’s hard work.


2 thoughts on “spider – #9

    1. Thank you, Britton! Now that I read it through again, I too am struck by that … also by the desire to make it more poetic and less proselike. And this was only #9!!!

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