The Spider

My hand gripped the spray can

Marching through Ontarian trees

Brothers and father in a band

Clearing a path with machetes

I was too little to be trusted

So sprayed red on the slashed bark

Until I felt my fingers brushed

And turned the can around to remark

The spider mirroring my hand

Green brown eyes peering at one another

I screamed and dropped the can

And ran to my oldest brother

I sat on the tatami mats

At night playing Nintendo

Listening to the wail of cats

Reaching their crescendo

When I opened my closet

To get a different game

Eight green eyes shone an instant

So with a broom I bludgeoned him

Later the crippled handlike form

Scrabbled towards me across the tatami

My fear was gone like snow in June

I felt only remorse and pity

This is why I will always fear the spider

But this is why I will never kill another