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The Spider


Just as the spider spins her web,
So delicate and small,
She doesn't do it for you.
She listens to the world around her. 
She labours away.

She works to create
A reflection of
Her needs,
Her desires,
Her attempt.

But as she weaves, she notices:
A quiver in the air perhaps?
Something different,
Something new,
Something worth reacting to...

And so the feels it, come alive
Creating a pattern, capturing
Not the quiver, 
Not the air,

But the fly. 

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