Little Ladybug

Do you ever have a sudden urge to ride the wind and tip-toe around the city in the darkness? If so, this one goes out to you.

I don’t like bugs.

But there is a ladybug clinging to my curtains,

The reddish-orange kind, the kind that bites with fervor.

And it won’t move, not even when I try to draw it to the light in the hallway.

It just grabs onto my sheer, white curtains in the nighttime,

Maybe it dreams about escape.

Maybe all it wants is to plunge into the cityscape of howling winds and

Warm glowing streetlamps, with predators and temperatures dropping,

Out into the night of sweet, unforgiving November.

 

Well, me too, little bug.  If only we could both forgo the stark white walls,

Of this little apartment, and ride the frigid winter winds.

But instead I just coop up here, blankets surrounding me like a tornado,

Trapped in this domestic bliss.

It’s far too dangerous, little ladybug, to delve into this weary, cold night,

With the predators and the howling wind.

Best to just stay here, I guess.

Author's Note

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[YanZeros]

No matter how little and or frail as tiny specks of dust. This life matters to the one who acknowledge its presence. When one who cares or cares to fear can cause meaning and expansion to one's world.