A spider clings to the brick and mortar wall Facing the setting southwestern Sun A sack of a thousand eggs hangs from her backside Meticulously thrown over her abdomen She watches wearily for saboteurs Or watches hungrily for prey to quench her thirst Her web ripples slightly from a hidden breeze Giving the illusion of her dancing To a lost tribal mamba
a spider that i talked to at work, she gave birth and died shortly thereafter.