My houseplants have been on the porch all summer.
The moon, white as vanilla, sends an evening chill
announcing a late October frost.
They must be carried inside, some hung
from my kitchen’s skylight windows.
Picking them up and carrying them through the porch, we welcomed each other.
As I open the storm door, I thought I heard a tiny critter voice chatter;
barely heard, but definitely noticed on the right side from my good ear,
inviting me to look closely at the plants. But, I chose
to quickly put them down on the porch floor.
I was a little concerned about my state of mind.
A worry, I must admit, since I was born.
Peering cautiously through the leaves of the one plant on the right side,
I spied a silver spider web laced between stems and leaves.
On closer inspection, I saw two critters with long skinny legs;
one in the center of the web and the other, on its furthest edge.
In the center, standing on six of his eight legs,
with one hand on his hip and another extended towards me,
I believe, to introduce himself with a hand or whatever I was supposed to shake.
Without hesitation, he began to speak, quite clearly, in my one good ear.
“Hey! Big Guy!
Bigger of biggest fellows!
I apologize for my intrusion your glorious immensity.
Speaking for the half of which I represent;
This of course, includes only me, for the other half has not yet agreed.
I am asking for your support in avoiding the outside tonight
and perhaps throughout the next two seasons.
For me, big guy, you show wisdom, compassion and a good taste in women.
I plead for you to save us, me and the little lady, where we could be killed
or die freezing outside. We are the third generation that has shared
this house and we do wish to continue to abide.
Love the light! Love the dark! Love what you have done inside.”
Startled as he spoke I felt dumbfounded,
out of breath, without words in the bellows.
“Hey you! Snap out of it! Hey! Big Guy! Bigger of biggest fellows!
I have just heard from the other half. The Mrs. has also agreed to plead
quietly to you. Asking for the joy to watch the early seasons go by…
weaving harmlessly among the leaves”.
Aghast, with natural concern, I pushed the plant away from my face.
I picked them up, still a little suspicious of the others,
I hurriedly brought them all inside, two at a time.
I made a pot a coffee; setting a cup in a saucer with a spoon,
sugar, and next to them, a carton of cream.
In the dimming light of late autumn
I placed the spider plant on the kitchen table.
Facing the shiny silver web, we started talking away
with spinning yarns and silver threads of family and friends;
all of whom have lived here. Reminiscing, laughing, I, drinking fresh coffee
and they, drinking from teacups, with warm evenings dew.