I Call Her "Harriet"

Morning pierces the sky with such fervor
that I am roused from my sleep
in a panic; like a 2 a.m. phone call
urgency pushes at the blinds.
Will today be different?
The world awaits.
Pull them up to reveal a dark reality:
Death hangs outside my window,
a dumb silhouette before the blinding light.
Small silk coffins shudder
like nervous hammocks.
Connect the dots.
An eight-legged ambition carried out flawlessly.
Premeditated murder.