Poets in Gossamer Beds
tarantula tantrum
legs unhinged
the web torn apart
Home is no longer a resting place
the flies quit knocking on the door
spun fun undone
hearts crawling with sticky feet
he’s coming for us
he’ll thread the needle
and then sting us with
his venomous smile.
erin-cilberto
9/20/25









It kinda read like getting stuck in a spiderweb. Amazing write!
And I think the subject of the poem is coming for us….we best be careful.
thank you, M.E….
j.