Mailbox

yesterday I had the letter in my hand when I was walking in the dark
and in the low blue evening heat with the flashlight swinging something shone from the
curb & glinted like a dropped coin
closer: and it was a bone-white spider
with eyeshine flashing like a lighthouse
from the grass.
Rilke said things that frighten us
are things that are helpless,
and wanting of our love,
but I jumped quickly & away.