Spider

Terror strikes lightly your stillness.

Serene is your bed and your icebox.

Death is your neighbor calmly

Surveying the scene as you strike.

The intruders, no more than inquisitive

Guests, find adhesive your ladders:

Jacob's dream, mirrored, entices them in.

They converge upon your constant hunger.

The struggle is short however frantic.

What defeat that was not dealt

By you, ever lay in your net?

A broom, a flame, a foot, a stronger mate.