Web: A Poem

A translucent web stretches across branches,

Delicately balancing between opposite sides,

The morning sun reflects off drops of dew,

On this beautiful trap for passersby,

A work of art with a poisonous purpose,

Carefully crafted by a master webber,

She works tirelessly to create a gossamer net,

In which to catch her thrashing meal,

And then eat and nap on her glistening hammock.