A Spider's Hunt
The spider sits upon his web
casting snares with each little thread
“Come play, come play with me” he said.
“A simple game to play, called Ebb.”
“No, no, no,” said the zooming fly.
“It’s clear that you are a bad guy.”
“I won’t play,” said a mottled moth.
“I won’t go near your sticky cloth.”
“I’m much too busy,” said the ant.
“I’d love to play, but I just can’t.”
The spider sits upon his weave,
cleaning up after a stray leaf,
and says in quiet disbelief,
“I’m not as bad as you believe.”
“No, you’re not,” agrees a song bird.
“You agree?” as threads were secured.
“No worse than I am,” he assured.
The spider’s response is unheard.
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