Lone Hangout

there's a spider in my great-room high up near the apex of the ceiling hanging from the whitewashed wall a spindly one, like a leggy daddy but surely of the arachnid order it is now early spring and this patient arthropod has been there since late last autumn, five to eight months maybe hanging from a thread he spun to end his life and hang upon is there such thing as arachnicide? or did he (or she) just naturally die? either way, i must say, preferable than some other way, like the black widow's suitor, dated, then out-dated and consumed to hang out, about and alone yet plain in sight forgotten all that ever was ever known is or may well be the fate of all, bowing for one last curtain call © Goode Guy 2013-05-23