Poem for the Spider Outside the Back Door

In honor of National Poetry Day, I’m returning to my blog with this poem about today’s early morning encounter

Spider out back

copyright Emily Livingstone 2017

This morning

your expanded web

had filaments spreading across the doorway…

…across the porch…

…down to the garbage bin.

When I opened the screen door,

your web shook, and you

drummed your legs angrily

against the center, ignoring

my recoil.

Your kind have reclaimed our yard of late.

There is one on the fence,

by the front of the house,

and one in the pine tree out back.

There are webs in the grass

and in windowsills.

Be warned, spiders.

Some places are too close,

too frequented,

and you are not welcome.

But, please, do not send your children

inside to crawl

from under the bed

to bite our skin at night

or march down our throats.

Live in the forgotten corners,

out of reach, and feast on what you find.

We both are selfish,

and we will both defend

what we imagine to be ours.


Is it true that we swallow spiders when we sleep?



Haiku for Trying to Buy Solar Eclipse Glasses Online

Studying the list,

seeking approved shades that won’t

burn our wond’ring eyes.

I did find some, finally.  I definitely should’ve ordered sooner, but…I didn’t.  Thanks, Museum of Science, Boston–I await the eclipse glasses!  I know I haven’t written here in awhile.  I will try to be better!  I taught summer school last month and then was sick, and I’ve taken my spare moments for other writing projects.  Hope all are enjoying the summer!