To the spider, whose web I knocked down while
Walking to the outside shower:
I know it is a hardship for you,
All your labor for naught.
And if by this innocent act I harmed you
Stole your very life
I offer my poor apology.
It has come to my attention that I have likely
Bungled my way through many of my days
Creating some significant measure
Of pain, of sorrow,
In the flailing attempt at my own life,
To those weaker, smaller and so perhaps
Undeserving of their fates.
I seek forgiveness from the universe and find
Small solace in that fact that it has created me
Brutish and yet self-aware
With some sort of purpose for each
Spider and man.