Where The Wall Meets The Floor, Revised
by Rachel Creager Ireland
An earlier version of this poem appeared here just about this time of year, two years ago. I guess it’s that buggy season. But I was never entirely satisfied with the poem, so now that I’ve got bugs on my mind, I thought of this poem, and realized it was entirely in my power to improve it.
Where The Wall Meets The Floor
Bugs come in through cracks around the windows and doors
and also along the line where the wall meets the floor.
Seal up the cracks? Trade crickets for gnats.
Bugs come in, and they draw spiders
like a movie star trails friends,
like prey ensnares predator.
Spiders make webs, eat bugs,
leave black and white spots on the floor,
lay eggs, make many more tinier spiders,
make lots more webs.
Keep the webs down. Sisyphean sweeping.
Shut up the room for safe keeping.
Turn your back, close your eyes,
years pass, what do you find?
The process continues- no –intensifies.
There’s no avoiding it. Nothing to do
but keep sweeping. Scrub those tiny spots.
Keep an eye out for webs.
They’re all around the windows and doors,
also along the line where the wall meets the floor.