Sonnet #418

 To the spider on my side view mirror

Whose web was made in three days rest

If I were kinder I’d have moved your nest

Before I drove upon the highway, nearer

To the winds and cosmic horror of a transit

I expect eight eyes can’t fathom, web blasted

Hard and road and mirror blurring past

Clutch into the gap between the glass and plastic

I don’t apologize for the abduction of your home

Your instinct to remain is your undoing

To curl into the place you built, to stay at all costs

If you survive the road, I don’t advise rebuilding

Accept that life is change, and when the lost

Silk dissipates, don’t sneak back, don’t rebuild in hiding