"I get more accomplished not setting out what I intended to do," said the
spider suddenly distracted by a missing piece of its web. "I start to repair a
strand or two, and see five other places in need of mending. I look forward to
a nice juicy butterfly for lunch, and instead an ant stumbles into my life’s
work, and then I have to start all over again."

"I know what you mean," said the other spider listening intently.
"Oh the plans I make, sitting out under the stars,
but often I put them off till morning when I’m still quite sleepy,
and if I wait too long, by afternoon...much too hot to get anything done."

So distracted was the spider in talking to its friend, it didn't see the shadow
quickly moving over the tips of the grass towards them. The first spider in
slightly better position barely had time to drop behind a rock, for in a flap of
feather in front of its very eyes, the second spider had been carried off to
certain doom.

© 1991

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04/20/2008

Author's Note: In celebration of 35 years writing poetry (as of June 23rd), I've been pulling out and dusting off some older pieces that I've never posted before. Though in my opinion not masterpieces, I feel each has some redeeming quality that has kept me from tossing them into the wastebasket.

Posted on 04/20/2008
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti