Wolf Spider

Padded jacket, gloves, wool scarf, balaclava, boots. I’m still cold. The north wind finds all the cracks in my clothing.

I crawl through the barbwire fence and hike to the trees. Squat on the lee side of an old poplar.

I’m not the first one here: Spread-eagled on the trunk, a wolf spider.

We sit in companionable silence.

Alone together.

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