by Michael Rosen

Michael Rosen

The house is silent.
It’s early.
I hear myself breathe.
The house is silent.
But something shifts.
A slight creak.
More silence.
Then another.
I remember yesterday.
We found two or three large spiders.
Someone explained
that September is the spider season.
How do they know? I wondered.
Do they talk about it?
‘Here we go, September, again. In we go.’
Perhaps that shifting noise
is the spiders, I thought.
They’re moving the furniture.
‘Never did like that chair being so close to the window,
Dave, let’s move it into the alcove.’
The house is silent.
It’s early.
Something shifts.

Last updated March 07, 2023