Web Makers


All around my back yard, flower beds, and garden, I am finding spiders at work building webs, hoping to snare some unsuspecting insect. As summer draws to a close, fall sneaks in quietly, with shorter days and welcomed cooler temperatures. Spiders will use their catch for nourishment to help then create an egg sacs that will survive fall and winter, hatching in the spring as warm days return again. The cycle of life continues.

Spiders keep spinning

Autumn’s internal clock ticks

Bugs feed urgency


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Written for Frank Tassone’s Saturday Haikai challenge.  Our writing needed to reflect the message that autumn is near.

#Haikai Challenge #47 (8/18/18): autumn near (aki chikashi) #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga

Beauty for a Day


Haikus from the Web


Delicate strands shine

Morning dew brings out beauty

Only for a day


Carefully spaced strands

Unaffected by the rain

Spider’s dreamcatcher


Drawn to web’s allure

Nature’s polyester thread

Bugs hit the bull’s eye


Photos: Dwight L. Roth

She Waits


Web of Death

In her dark tunnel she hides

Lying in wait for the blazing sun

Dew drops clinging to her web

Breathing quietly // with the patience of Job…

Knowing lunch comes as soft breezes blow.

Her web of death // spun for unwitting insects

Entangled in her shimmering threads.

Thin as fiber optics… strong as steel

Once entangled // they are her next meal

From her tunnel of darkness she emerges

Like a horror on the fun-house ride

One venomous bite // and it’s all over

Then she’s back inside


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

My Long Legged Friend


I have a little spider who lives among my tools

With long gangly legs she maneuvers her web

Like a giant robot in a factory assembly line

She weaves fine strands to catch unsuspecting fools


Some unsuspecting fly or a gnat gets entangled

She wraps her dinner for later in the day

As quick as a flash her reactions far reaching

As flies and bugs get injected and strangled


Her web of fine silk is thinner than your hair

A predesigned pattern programmed in her

Every strand exactly placed perfectly aligned

So thin it blends in you cannot even tell it’s there


When I come by and rattle my tools

She scurries to the top to hang on her foundation

Knowing one movement can ruin her day

Making her start over catching unsuspecting fools


Photos: Dwight L. Roth