SPIDER

Lying in one morning

a spider came, almost unnoticed,

no more than a slight sensation on the skin,

so easy to brush off with an instinctive disregard,

a subliminal inclination to wipe away.  

This black speck the size of two pinheads, no more

entertained me, engaged my focus

with its blackness and minuscule legs.

It’s so easy to sweep things away,

mentally; emotionally; physically;

but is it not the little things that matter most?                  

At the same time an Eagle Owl, feathers

flutter in the wind on a pylon nearby,

so large but dead for a week, in a

juxtaposition of power and death.

John Edwards © 12^th May 2013