Vox Populi
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Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: When She Was Afraid She Wasn’t Good Enough
When fear scuttled through her thoughts
with its eight slender legs; when she recognized
the shiny black body, the bulbous abdomen;
when fear found all her corners and began
to weave inside her mind a home of steel-strong silk;
she did not try to befriend the fear.
Nor did she try to squash it,
though she had a sturdy book.
.
Not that she wasn’t afraid. In fact,
fear seemed reasonable, if she threatened the fear first.
Instead, as if she were her own sweet child,
she took herself by the hand
and walked right up to the web to explore—
noted the upper structural threads,
the tangle threads in the middle,
the vertical threads in the bottom designed to trap.
.
Every day she walked back to the web
and stared wide-eyed at the fear hanging upside down,
and then she’d leave and wander
in other rooms where there was low-angled light
the way Renoir might have painted it,
or rooms of flowers, or rooms of song,
rooms of laughter, rooms of starlight,
warm rooms with nothing in them at all.
.
Eventually she could predict where the fear would be.
Could walk right to its brand new web.
.
We couldn’t say she liked the fear there.
We couldn’t say she didn’t miss it when it left.
.
We could say she found a way not to feed it.
We could say that while it lived in her,
she found a way to meet it.
(c) 2023 Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s many books include Hush winner of the Halcyon Prize for a collection of poems about human ecology. She lives with her husband and daughter in Placerville, Colorado, on the banks of the wild and undammed San Miguel River.
Vox Populi 
Black welt decorates my back
Thumb sized pressed into my ribs
Fascinating angled body
Arm lifted looking in the mirror
Will this change me?
Will I be part widow in my life?
Yes
I have 8 slender legs to lift me and scurry scattering those I want to reach
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Thanks, Pam!
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Another brave poem, Rosemerry ❤️
“Eventually she could predict where the fear would be.
Could walk right to its brand new web.”
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Yes, the sustained conceit of the spider is very effective here, isn’t it?
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It’s a totally true poem, too–I used to go find all the black widow webs when we lived in Dominguez Canyon … Finn & I would visit them all and watch the egg sacs appear, see the babies emerge. I got to the point I could look at a desert wall in a new canyon and point to where the web would be, and walk up to it and there it was … facing fear, baby … with curiosity
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Black widow
Living in the kitchen window
Web spun neatly
For the sun to glide it’s shine
Flying creatures
Soon husks wrapped in silk
She spoke to me everyday
Showing me red hour glass
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a powerful relationship!!
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Oh the wisdom in this poem! A song to what usually hides inside.
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Yes, a song to ward off the inner demons.
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Yes–hello to what is hidden … thanks Barbara.
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What a store,g poem and clear voice — and those two last lines ! Bravo, Rosemerry!
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Sorry for the terrible typo. I mean “strong” — not store,g! These are still 6am-barely-awake-fingers typing!
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No problem, Laure-Anne. I’m impressed you’re getting an early start!
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Thank you, friend … what a relief to know meeting it is all that is asked of me. Not that I conquer it, not that I befriend it …
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As always, pure wisdom in this poem too, Rosemerry’s poems reflect a way of life, hard won and honest.
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Thanks, Noelle. I agree. I love Rosemerry’s poems.
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oh sweet friend across the sea, thank you for these kind words.
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