Annie Brechin

The Spider

The spider
sees walls I don’t

walks up them

stops for a minute
and twirls, uncertain

of which world

it is in – the one
where it’s safe, feet
on solid ground

or else the one where it hangs

impossible

suspended
in nothingness

               *

tonight, I’m clumsy
trying

to put my arms through walls,
through wood and concrete

until

I get enough bruises
to remind me
where my body ends

which world I’m in

that I only have
two legs