A Little Death

I killed a spider this morning,

Not deliberately,

He was clinging to the shower wall,

One leg hanging on,

Dangling above a treacherous fall

Into the rushing water.

So I turned it off,

Carefully moved (despite lingering arachnophobia)

And offered him safety,

A wash cloth, dry, to cling to.

Put him outside and slid the door shut,

Washed and rinsed,

Not thinking much about him.

I assumed he'd find a shadow,

Or higher ground,

Then as I got dressed,

One sock in hand,

I found him on the sole of my foot.

And thought about the futility of kindness.

Then wondered if it was better

To drown,

Or

simply be flattened.