I think I’ll just stand here and watch this spider.
\nIt’s big and black and I hope not deadly to humans.
\nOne leg moves, then another, then several, together.
\nAt a snail’s pace it moves closer to the fly that thinks it’s having a safe rest.<\/p>\n
The cobweb is glistening in the sunlight, a shimmering drape hanging above the barn door.<\/p>\n
Nowhere else to be, I keep watching from the fold-out chair that my dad gave me.
\nHours later she’s there next to the fly.<\/p>\n
She grabs the fly.
\nI’ve named her Charlotte. The spider, not the fly.
\nThe fly doesn’t get a name since it’s just about to die anyway.<\/p>\n
I’m standing up now, a front row seat to the feeding.
\nCharlotte eats his face, slowly, with purpose.
\nThe body is still, no struggle.
\nThe wings are still visible,
\nAnd if it still had its head it could fly away,
\nTo continue its buzzing and abused existence.<\/p>\n
But instead it’s wrapped up in thin, sparkling fibers,
\nQuite a pretty death.<\/p>\n
I wouldn’t mind taking a life like that-
\nPeacefully, slowly.
\nIt feels so right watching her delicately destroy the fly.
\nThere is a sense of order.
\nI suppose I can relate to Charlotte.
\nWe do share the same name.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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