Put yourself in his place On my arm like a raindrop, a zebra spider lands between the hairs and slides down them, leading to his next destination. My children watch as he hops across canyon folds of my skirt, berries and stars scatter before his eight eyes, the changing terrain beneath his leaping. We follow him past wicker and iron, cheering all the way. Careful where we step, guiding. Our voices’ vibrations blur – we are temporary gods; angels too big to see.
Kate Garrett
6
