The spider had a body like a coffee-colored pearl.

Its threadlike legs bore this burden well

As it scuttled across the concrete steps,

Fleeing from the havoc my mother wrought

As she tore through shrub and seed,

Destroying the web over which the spider toiled.

Hopefully, his delicate legs will weave a new silken creation,

A small net to catch the gleam of morning dew—

Until the wind sighs, leaving the web to stretch and snap,

Dislocating the intrepid spider once more.

What then, courageous nomad?

You will carry the lucky pearl of your body onward,

Propelling your spindly legs until you float,

Carried away by the breath of the Earth,

A banner of silk sailing like an anchor

That refuses to lie anywhere for too long.