All is barren, dry, unspoken here on mountain.
Spider sleeps, counting on the quiet poison.
Even seeds of weeds blow restless over rocks.
Sturdy seems the perch, the prey above the loches.
All was still until by dusky light arrived
Pesky parasitic caustic spies of plight.
Creeping little marchers peruse spider’s prey
Find their way to silky bondage where she lay.
Beneath the sun she is hiding from the day
These little spies can’t keep quiet what they say.
They sing along silvery beautiful lies
Dissolve the threads that lead to her demise.