He sits upon his silken web,
awaiting just a single tap.
Patient he, throughout the day,
till interrupted from his nap.
A tremor felt, and then he springs
to his victim in the net.
His venom ends another life.
No remorse, no regret.
J.A.Scott
I like this poem. And I (sort of) like spiders too. In French, there is a saying 'Araignee du soir, espoir'. It means: if you see a spider in the evening, there is hope. Who would have thought?
ReplyDeleteThat's a cool statement. I just find spiders so fascinating. Wanted to write more but when I came to the end of the second line, I thought no more needed to be said.
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