I usually kill beetles that glomp me unprovoked
But today I was merciful. Looking down
To my utter surprise, he clung to my jacket
Hiding on the black fabric that mirrored
His brilliant black carapace.
Not expecting his arrival
I jump back, surprised he felt
He could invite himself
Onto my person
After a mere fifteen minutes after meeting.
I tried politely telling him to leave
Using soft words of encouragement
But in his short time there
He grew quite fond of my polyester coating.
So instead I cradle him,
Gently placing him on a window’s sill
Where darkened refurbished wood
Would hide him well
I feel proud, showing restraint
And choosing not to harm
The next day, my mind wanders
To my squirming insectoid compatriot.
What adventures has he embarked on after
Departing into the great unknown?
Did he ever talk with the bees?
Much too curious, I return to ask him
How he came to hope his way
Into my life. But the sun no longer reflected a shine.
He lay on his back, legs bent inwards
Antennae snapped and torn
With bits of wood chipped from
The sill that garnishes his remains.
Some years later, my jubilant nephew
Urges to follow him quickly tugging my shirt fervently.
He has something Awesome to show me.
His shoes sit by the door and in their soles,
A brilliant black beetle crawling
Sifting through the dirt sifted in the shoe.
Without remorse or hesitation, I use my foot
To smash the beetle in one blow. He cries out,
And demands to know with furrowed brows
“Why? What did the Spider do?”
I shrug my shoulders, never skipping a beat
I reply “Nothing. Just helping out a friend.”