Spider - Bob McAfee

There is a red fly swatter
on top of the refrigerator,
three steps away from any point
in the kitchen, sure death
for any airborne invader,
no mercy shown.

On the windowsill
is one of those lidded,
round containers
which originally held
balsamic vinegar
for a take-out salad.

She uses it to capture
spiders, gently,
easing them into the cylinder
then sliding on the cover
so she can safely release them

guarding the web of her kitchen.
I call it love.
I call it tenderness,
ecological concern,
maybe even
professional courtesy.

Bob McAfee is a retired software consultant who lives with his wife near Boston. His style is eclectic, but his goal is producing poems with both fierceness and a reluctant sense of optimism. He has been writing poetry for over thirty years but only publishing since 2017. He writes for two hours every day.

Books: Mysteries 2017, Enchantments 2018, Caprices 2019, Veils 2020 ‒ all out of print. Natural Worlds poems illustrated with color photographs 2021, Love Songs 2022, Scar Tissue poems about aging and the nearness of death 2023 ‒ all available through bookbaby.com.

His poems have been accepted by The Lyric, The Blue Mountain Review, The Burning House Press, Liquid Imagination, Gleam Poets, Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, Front Porch Review, Poetry Super Highway, Open Door Magazine, Grand Little Things, Way Words, Oddball Magazine, Abstract: Contemporary Expressions, Minute Magazine and The Society of Classical Poets Journal.

Website: www.bobmcafee.com.