






The spider works quickly to get the larger insect wrapped within its web. The insect doesn’t struggle; it may be dead. But the web is in tatters and shakes violently every time the spider moves. I watch the action, hoping the spider secures its hard-won meal before the web gives out.
Progress is slow, and my attention wavers. When I check back, the spider is sitting motionless in its sparse web, and the big catch-of-the-day is nowhere in sight. Has it fallen from the web? After all the spider’s hard work? I am compelled to make it right, find the bug. Maybe I can stick it back on the web somehow.
I part the plants beneath the spider’s web, and sure enough, there it is. Still wrapped in webbing. Still dead. But… moving? Two small ants have taken a hold of the hapless bug and are hauling it off as their own pre-wrapped prize. I am too late. Nature has already made it right.
nature’s web pulled taught
broken strands and gaping holes
mend on, weavers, mend

spider sleeps in web dreams of netting trophy flies wakes to find stink bug

Humans are so creepy,
with only four legs and
hairy heads and
just two eyes that sometimes
have glassy covers or dark lids which
obscure their eyes completely.
Whenever they see me
they jump and scream
and start flailing their four legs about;
you’d think they’d caught a hornet
in their web.
It’s really quite scary.
I wish they’d leave me alone
and go back to where they came from,
wherever that is.
Sometimes I play with them.
I know it’s not spiderly of me,
but it’s such a kick to hear their squeals when they
pull back the shower curtain and find me
hiding in the bath tub.
This Halloween I think I will dress up
as a human.
The Daily Post one-word prompt: Jump
