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Sonnet: For a Spider

O spider, thou with legs so hairy
So innocent, ugly-cute and scary
As I ponder wonderingly
What you would have lived to see

But your life, cut short with tragic blow
Far from your sun’s warm native glow
In Sweden, trapped from tropic skies
Finding comfort in a shower, ‘til your demise

Smashed body streaking down the wall
No longer soft round fuzzy ball
Legs furry stuck to wall and book
Out of respect for the dead, I did not look

Closer at the slimy goo
Instead this sonnet I write for you.

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