Steatoda Grossa

Heading home on the train,
Between my book pages
I glanced, and my eyes
Caught most other gazes.

Except for one figure
Lithe and poised,
Who kept on reading
Despite screeching noise.

She leaned on a pole
And used neither hand
To balance herself as we
Bounced through the land.

Dressed all in black,
Dark hair, and pale skin,
An old book in her palm
With pages worn thin.

While she was reading
Deftly spinning her hair
With three long fingers
Like a web in thin air.

I tried not to stare
Entranced by her spinning.
Snapped out of my daze
As the lights started dimming.

The intercom screamed,
“A train stopped ahead!”
The train brakes gnawed,
And whack – went my head.

I opened my eyes,
Wrenching pain as I scanned.
We were all on the floor.
I slowly started to stand.

Out the window I stared,
A thin figure raced by.
Later learned a thick web
Had saved all our lives.

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3 comments

  1. thenoveilst · November 17, 2014

    Lovely prose 🙂

  2. MrTavano · November 18, 2014

    Glad to see these still coming! I had Volume 2 ready to go for your birthday, but impossible to find the right materials over here. I guess you’ll have to go through a real publisher this time.

    • Don'tGrowUpSlowUp · November 18, 2014

      Thanks, Mr. Tavano. The first edition has a special spot on my shelf and in my heart. (Awww, too sappy?). Hope you’re loving it over there!

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