Celia and the Spider.

Celia smiles.

A fly buzzes

from deep within 

a spider’s web,

The spider moves

towards its lunch.

She stands watching

the pantomime

of the small kill.

Her husband lies

dead on the bed.

Some time before 

he lay there drunk, 

and she wondered

at that moment,

if determined, 

she could hold a

pillow over

his drunken head,

suffocate him

to dark death,

him struggling

for the next breath.

She did it;

all her efforts

focused on it

until his hands

struggled no more

and he went limp.

She watches as

the spider does

what it’s good at,

no more buzzing

just that silence

of the deep kill.

Her husband’s there

just so silent

and just so still