Fay Slimm.

Catch-Trap.

Catch-Trap.

Crouched in viewing the shivering cobweb

craftily spanning a waterfall\'s edge

I saw fine precision-knifed filaments

cunningly strung with infinite wisdom.

A weightless weapon of swinging steel,

death-celled bed spun on gossamer wheel.

That devilish duvet of glistening gauze

betokened real craft as the spider paused

then in obscurity tensed for success,

alert with magnetic insect suppression.

Hairily silent as tensile wires, cleverly glued

met miniscule life of wriggling food

that by moving caught death in but seconds

while spider gave fly lethal injections.

As water\'s curtain cascaded to ground

and whirling catch-trap spun victim around

fed spider wiped mouth, cleaned sticky legs,

repaired any holes and prepared for the next.