Consumption

Dying with my duty done, my life’s ambition filled, I hear and feel the rustling from that which I did build. Arachni-matron-me, I feasted ‘pon the mate I killed – Before creating (lovingly?) the sac that holds my brood. Chitinous appendages – a thousand eight-fold sets – Scramb-ling, tearing, clawing to escape their natal nets. Th’time is nigh, I’ll never see their thousand eye octets – I’m glad I cannot contemplate becoming their first food. (Poem is an "ochtfochlach", which is an Irish verse form of 8 lines. The rhyme scheme is aaab cccb.) Written on June 2, 2023 for the "Bag of Spiders Poetry Contest".