Between a flowering hedge
and garden path illuminator,
an ancient ritual unfolds.
In motion, her fascinating legs
are silver lit and busy as they knit
a geometric circle.
Perfect, concentric as she navigates
in the half light, it glows unfolding
from her orb, ready to be touched
by morning dew.
Circular, suspended in light from
outer edge to inner circle
she rests at last within its centre.
Taut to each claw a strand is fixed.
Death will come tonight for
some unsuspecting creature