Spider Crawls
He comes in stocking feet,
moving on tiptoe through the dark,
sometimes while I sleep,
because he never sleeps.
He occupies himself in small ways—
not with possession,
but with attention.
He brushes my hand in tiny,
circling passes,
not touching skin
but the hairs on my hand,
as if they’re instruments
and he’s listening for a note.
He finds the down on my cheek
rather than the cheek itself,
fingers drifting lightly,
palms hovering,
lips barely grazing,
testing the air between us.
Later, when we talk,
he says it’s something he needs—
a way of knowing me,
a way of steadying himself
through the long hours of the night.
He comes like a spider in the dark,
measuring the space,
mapping the edges,
never quite touching,
yet knowing exactly
where I am.
Dale Scherfling is a fulltime writer/poet and a creative writer and photographer instructor. He is a former newspaper sportswriter, editor and photographer and retired U.S. Navy photojournalist. His work has been accepted by The Monterey Poetry Review, San Diego Poetry Annual, Chiron Review, Mangrove Review, Letters Journal, The Blotter Magazine, 25:05 Magazine, Discretionary Love, Writing Teacher, Third Act Magazine, Yellow Mama, Close to the Bone, Flash Phantom, Dispatches Magazine, Five on the Fifth and Oddball Magazine. He is the recipient of three U.S. Army Front Page Journalism Awards and is also a college lecturer and instructor of photojournalism, photography, and music.
