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An epistolary work for choir with piano accompaniment.  And yes, I did pluck a little clump of dog hair out of a box I was mailing that wriggled and turned out to be a small spider.  The spider was released back into the basement, which I'm sure it and the person receiving the box were both grateful for.  Thanks for taking a listen!

 

My dear Sir,

It may please you to know that this box does not contain a spider.

A bit of fluff, pinched out 'twixt thumb and finger,
pushed back in desperate protest, unspooling thread-fine legs,
and we saw each other face to face,
both equally surprised,

and so I send your order and a reminder from the spider,
who was not mailed to California,
that when the hand of Fate plucks you up,
beat with your tiny fist,
and sometimes the grip relaxes,
and Fortune herself will stare in shock
at your small soul looking up.

 

 

Edited by pateceramics
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