A Poet's Dozen Spiders
Spinning finespun threads
Deftly weaving silken webs.
Spider catches fly.
As tremors ripple from a beating wing.
He kills with venom in his sting.
Then spins pure silk to bind his prey.
These shrouds of death, stored in his nest.
A perfect maze, where victims do abide.
He lurks in shadows, fears the light.
Then spins his web again at eventide.
Ensnaring moths in winged flight.
Those nocturnal insects of the night.
11/ 6/ 2015.
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