The male
wolf spider
purrs for sex.
Isn’t that

he rubs his
mouth against
dead leaves;

it could be
mistaken for
the rev of
an engine.

But it’s not
about sending
out a song;

he knows
the vibration
is what draws
the female in and
sets her eight legs
on the path
toward him,

and then
they mate
among the
leaves’ decay,
mocking death
in the darkness.