Bridget Fahey O’Brien
I see you 2!
By Annmarie Lockhart
My little ones dream that the souls
of dead ladybugs haunt their closets
and lurk under their beds.
They are scared of ladybugs who
fly away home, some called to live
and some bound to die, and some
who waver on the cusp of decision.
I look closely at their color to know
if they are or were and sweep away
those whose reds are yellowed.
My little ones believe there is safety
in numbers. They huddle in blankets
fighting sleep on the floor of my room.
Ladybugs gather in clusters of red, black,
and yellow along the dusty windowsill.
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