Incy Wincy Spider

Poetry

Diya Saini
Jun 14 · 1 min read

It was the wee hours per me too early for any normal person to sight.

Other than oldies and health freaks like me.

I lit the light from my porch to combat the unknown darkness.

But after my act, there was another act on the line.

A baby spider was tucking and pulling on each hole in my shoe.

Accompanying on the trail of my lace with its lace to learn knitting the right way.

I waited because I knew this would be his only way to feed him on his prey.

When whacked by a waiting signboard instead of slamming your head on it like a bull.

The corrupted message, says to be stiffer and patient in the direction you roll.

The Lark

The Lark shares fictional short stories and poetry

The Lark

The Lark shares fictional short stories and poetry

Diya Saini

Written by

I'm a rag picker. I make money off people's garbage. I hold out on a roller coaster or I would have missed knowing myself. That my inner compass is faulty.

The Lark

The Lark shares fictional short stories and poetry