Paul Beare

(Albuquerque, New Mexico)

Awaiting His Prey

Poem by Paul Beare

High on the ceiling corner, hanging net strong in its world, eight bitty eyes peer out as it awaits with forbearance for victims.
None today, maybe a feasible fly tomorrow.
I sleep now.
It walks away into the night, lost like my wondering silent mind.

Comments about Awaiting His Prey by Paul Beare

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: today, sleep, lost, world, night

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

[Report Error]