A poem should be soundless as the flight of birds...A poem should be equal to not true....A poem should not mean but be.

Spider and Innocent Fly

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It was drizzling
But it wouldn’t last very long
In fact it didn’t
I peeped out of the window
To see the washed blue sky
Beautiful was the sight
Something in between
Distracted  my eyes
Twinkling droplets of water
Caught on webs of a spider
Like diamonds that twinkled
Rays of  the sun dispersed
I looked for the spider
It lay at the very corner
Ready to grasp at its prey
She must have cursed the rain
For no fly would be caught
Her web was visible to them
But only two minutes had passed
A fly got stuck, the spider grasped
She was not hungry now
What surprised me was the fly
She saw the web but she didn’t avoid
Was it the glistering droplets?
Or was she blind ?
 Or was she innocent?
That she didn’t know what was a web
Innocent is the right answer I think
Death of that innocent  fly
But an honourable death
At  least she fed a hungry spider
Well that was the story
Of Rain, of diamonds
Of a spider and of a fly
But the truth always prevail
A spider at last meets its end
By its own offspring in its own web.


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Dinita Rai
J P Sharma Road