October is the Month of the Spider
those eight-legged hunters, pregnant and fat
hang low, with wide-cast webs
to catch the most unwary meals
for ravenous mothers-to-be.
She hangs from her net, lazy and gravid
letting it do the work for her,
for she knows that her work is almost done.
October is the Month of Life and Death;
she was not built for cold, and as she spins her sac
she ebbs, fails, and falls into the brown crackling leaves
among the shells of her prey.