it was a spider by Charles Clifford Brooks III

burgundy flora is placed
and eight legs race
from it
across the oak table.

a snow-white spider
the second in three days
she replaces the first one
i killed.

number two is hiding
in a bundle of cockscomb.
one little crystal spinner
at buddha’s feet.

i am a reed
a puff of air
humbled as she weeps
for the first.


Charles Clifford Brookes III