a poem in my pocket

palely colored

bulbous abdomen

of barn arachnid

curls like gray sack

drawstrung by eight

delicately jointed

and banded legs

poised on sticky orb

of doorway deathtrap;

four legs hold fly still

for fangs to clamp

down as spider

lingers long over

breakfast of blood

I dislike spiders but my muse lingers on arachnid theme so here’s another one for dVerse poets’ Monday quadrille (44 words) with Linda Lee Lyberg.