The Dinner Fly

Black Widow, Widow on the wall,
How does your webbing weave?
How is it that your belly, red,
Can stealthily deceive?

How is it that your hourglass
Does not sift endless sand,
And yet, time flies in silent cries
When life ends in your hands?

Where are you in the dead of night,
As nightmares follow suit
In lush cocoons of silken thread,
Intended to dilute?

What can you do to comfort them,
Those caught inside the strand,
Awaiting fangs, a toothy grin,
Unleashed at your command?

When will the feast at last be done,
My body cannot wait,
So do me in, come on, dive in,
And leave my form to fate!

“Have patience, dear.” The Widow says,
“My lips will calm you so.
Enjoy your last; I end my fast,
And will not let you go.

Your questions will not matter by
The time our time is done.
So just relax, you little snack,
For mealtime has begun!”

Oh dreary me, oh dreary you!
I close my eyes and die!
Oh that I were you, Widow, and
Not me, the dinner fly!

James Matthew Byers is a published author(Grecian Rune, 2004) and a father of two. James has been married to his wife, Dorothea, for seven years. Mr. Byers teaches 8th Grade English at Moody Junior High. He resides with his family and two cats in Rainbow City.

Find more by James Matthew Byers in the Author Index.

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