arachnid

the wind was blowing directly from the lowering sun as I drive home today
alternately watching the road and picking at various keratin filled blips on my arms
in the top corner of my vision a tiny albino spider clung to the window, frantically searching for stable ground
pale, iridescent and revolting in her fragility
my jaw ached dully pulsing as i watched rapt, hopeful
tangibly terribly empathetic
she hunkered down behind the seal of the door and began steadily weaving herself into a cocoon, taking the place usually reserved for her hapless prey
presently she was calm, very alone in her bivouac
and my heart stilled.

flaxen

 shorn like a tiny golden sheep running with your sweat meaty feet
hair shards strewn to the wind stuck to chubby hands smelling of  raw wood yogurt beach sand. All at once grown and significantly minute
my heart quakes along with these fingertips
and with a wisp your babyhood is gone