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