Spider in the Bathtub

By John I. Blair

Spider in the bathtub
You looked dead.

Did I accidentally tread on you,
Stepping in and out?

For weeks I had been careful
Before I took my shower

Moving you with an envelope
To the windowsill above.

But every time I did that
You insisted on returning.

This could not end well,
I think we both knew that,

Me in my prideful human way,
For you the instincts of an eon.

I shed no tears, but picked you up
On a hasty paper bier,

Carried you in quiet state
To a resting spot in a flowerpot,

And missed you just a tiny bit
When I climbed into an empty place.

©2018 John I. Blair, 4/4/2018