Web of deceit where
spider waits to ambush,
pounces on a fly,
wraps silk around
so carefully
like a ladies’ dressmaker.
The insect briefly struggles,
goes ominously limp.
Unless you’re the spider,
then dinner is waiting,
a fly smoothie.

In the morning
dew drops
decorate the web strands
reflecting an
upside down world.

Rocs, manticores, and spiders,
magical predators
all dream
of blood.

Photo taken at Jack’s land, Catskills, 2019.

2 thoughts on “Web

  1. Still creating your wonderful poetry. Thank you for posting this to me. Enjoyed. Have you given any thought of publishing?


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