A Paper Cup
A spider
on my wall;
I spied her,
just inches from my head,
her big fat hairy legs
and body crimson-red.
Soft light casts a shadow
making her look larger;
her high, and me below.
On my desk, I see a paper cup.
If I could trap her underneath it;
but then, I could miss and cock-it up.
She could scurry down my arm, or worse,
down my neck. I pull my collar tight.
"It's a quandary, alright," I curse.
Spider-cup, my nerves begin to fray.
Cup-spider, spider-cup: will it fit?
As I think, she gently walks away.
A 3-6-9 Poem Poetry Contest: Placed 2nd.
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Date wrote: 03-July-2021
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2021
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