She spins and twirls and whirls and hurls
She loops and hoops and paratroops
She crafts and graphs along the shaft.
Surely her web is almost finished
Her spirits not once diminished.
When suddenly
A fly has been caught
The fight has been fought
And the spider has hit the jackpot.
So the fly wiggles and jiggles
It yells from its cell
But he stays in his ill-fated spell.
It’s a putrid business
A useless cycle for any who witness
But she appreciates any fly’s visits.
She’s still whirling and hurling
still looping and hooping
still crafting and graphing
only
for a
lonely
fly
