Vespula vulgaris drifted in, backing up to the window

just above the grindstone and the pillar drill

soon abreast of a pontoon of web,

buffeting where the light leached in.

 

Tegenaria domestica meanwhile waiting, rose

pullulating from the lacy depths

formidable on its mainspring of legs.

A joust ensued, the wasp with wings

snagged in the gossamer

the spider legs reaching out to wrap the prey

then a countering lunge, a stumbling retraction

where venom threatened - the wasp

caught fast in a crescendo of struggle

then the sting again, the spider buckling

pulling back, the wasp escaped.

 

Still the spider waited, the old warrior

spinning its lullaby of death

the wasp in listless circles venturing

once more strayed into the web,

surely now too tired to resist

the speed of legs,  eggs of dust

dislodged.  Stunned but desperate

the wasp fought clear, vespula vulgaris

disappearing to nurse herself upon

the dusty shelf. 

      Tegenaria domestica sank down

once more like a wreck at sea

a declination of chance

in the shadows of the deadly dance.

 

The grindstone and the pillar drill

remained like props in an xbox game

my curiosity just a dream

in nature's much more subtle name.