Covered Canopies

As the morning dew melted, we stepped out on to the porch. The puddles danced in our garden, where our reflections went on a spree. High above our heads, the canopies were ceased, by the wretched beauty spun. A spider web - we could see. The black little spider, swung off her perch, dangling down the window rail - her new advent began. Reluctant neighbours. We were watching and counting the sentenced little bugs caught in her world.