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".
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