Something

something scrambled
out of me at least I thought
it was out of me
it could have been into me
very fast very sly
dirty breath’d assassin
 
spiders
ants                earthworms
I witnessed
being dissected by my brothers
and crane flies
I tried
 
but never managed
to capture
whole   such fey stupid wings
and legs left drifting on walls
mostly I was a witness
mostly
 
I’ve kept
out of  the way with
my hood zipped
up to my chin
what is the surest thing
we know?
 
that as we grow older
we think less of
killing things and more
of coming back
who knows where
we acquire our knowledge
 
from our mothers   aunts
perhaps
they pass it on
like a candle through
an ancient pockmarked door
something parenthetic
 
like a clasp
broken     useless as a rotten wick
a spider climbing
the sublime coast
of  your shoulders
walking through those rooms again
 
a web breaking
on the back of  your hand
 

Source: Poetry (December 2018)