She sat
quietly
watching,
waiting,
listening?
while we ate
our salmon
pasta
in cream sauce
on the tiny porch.
Clare
noticed her first
and politely
addressed her:
“Hello!
have you come
to join us
for dinner?”
Chask’e provided
her name: Iktomi,
and told us
a Lakota story
about her exploits.
The following evening
after a dinner
not on the tiny porch
a visiting friend
noticed Iktomi
when he
opened the door.
Not knowing our history
with the spider
and because it was
large and
hairy and
a spider,
he squished her and
loudly and proudly announced:
“I killed a huge wolf spider!”
Cedar Waxwing's 365 
Oh no! Has your friend become afflicted with boils or started howling at the moon?
Tonight a wolf spider died because he walked on my arm. I felt guilt, but only after being submerged in total blind panic at the sight of him skittering down my wrist. So I understand, and pity, your friend. That you named her, such a wonderful name, speaks volumes. You may do better than me in the afterlife.
I love this. I love that you left her alone.
What Sabine said.
Oh no! Such violence after such beauty and love.