The Spider’s Rose

Age old webs sprawled across the garden

Where the spider sleeps & feasts

The weeds blowing in the breeze of summer nights

And the dandelion’s seeds are no more

The spider rides the wind

Clutching wherever he may land

In the dusk of the last night

Till she comes

And he floats down softly

On the cold, wet concrete

Upon that dead rose

To jump upon the unexpected fly

& make another dreadful web

On that withered rose

 

The spider’s rose

Abode of death

Where the bee sought

& the wasp gasped a last breath

Web covered dead rose

Silk & slime covered

As eight eyes watch

The sun rise

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