The little spider
That builds its web of silk
Is a smart politician
That weaves invisible traps for
Simple proletariats
To walk into its parlor
And lie wrapped to be preyed.
I saw it cling on two opposite poles
Silky, soft and shiny,
Spreading a silver glow in the sunlight
But not before it had clung
My hands in tight embrace
Did I realize its presence?
That left me somewhat dazed.
A water pipe I held and sprayed
To free my hand and frighten it
But it creepily clung to the pegs
Waiting to devour it
Then suddenly it ran through the mesh
And hid behind the pole
While I stood awhile and thought
Aren’t politicians the same?
~Shobha Diwakar
Jabalpur, India