Drunk, I staggered to my car
uncaring of the ticket under the wiper
In an attempt at sobriety
and awaiting fresh dawn
I plucked the old folder from the trunk
writings from a creative class past
they had been waiting two years
And two hours I passed
thumbing through their minds
when I was startled by a spider
skitted from the pages
and across my hand
Small and quick and shiny
it paused long enough for me to study
and my head unclear, I noticed
we shared a common ground
We both live in the dark, in safety
at peace and in bliss
For there exists not a better home
where I'd rather spend my days
than between the poems.