Ladybug 2

an agitated ladybug lands on your knee. she spins and dances like a sufi in meditation. she pauses and stares at you. she gets impatient and beats her wing-covers. it takes several beats to break you out of your trance.

“oh, hello. sorry, i was greatly enjoying your dance. it’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?”

she doesn’t speak exactly but somehow her thoughts seep in. she’s amazed to be here. she’s happy but isn’t questioning it—well, too much.

You join in her rejoicing of summer. She is excited about the smell of dirt, the sweetness of aphids. She praises the heat and thawing.

“I know what you mean,” you say. And you tell her about your day. About how

You were rudely and unwillingly woken up this morning. It was quite alarming. There was something wrong, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were these things floating all around. You sat up in bed and huddled in the corner pulling the blankets up around you. The floating thing were streaked with light. It slowly became clear. The sun was out!

You leap up and pull on your summer clothes. You rush outside, banging your toes and shins on tables and chairs. You yank open the front door and the sun hits you in the eyes. You’re blind and stunned and stumble out into an explosion of colors and heat. You’re awed and relieved to be alive.

You head to the park and watch the sky brighten. A pale yellow swatch nibbles away the grey. Wisps of clouds are still lingering around but, little by little, they break up and fade into pale blue.

Rustling leaves dance overhead. A gradient of heat and cold swirls over your skin. You feel the formless shadows take shape and mingle and swarm, and fade back into formlessness.

The dirt is warm and moist under your hands. You dig at small roots and you grind rough pebbles into your fingertips. The smell of a living earth is reminiscent of another time…

Where sheep graze on the next hill over The gauzy yellow shape that sways like the grass must be the shepherd. There are puffy whit splotches wandering through high grass. You wait for them to float away, but somehow they stay close to the ground.

And the grass tickles the back of your knees. You brush it away and suddenly there’s a dark red ladybug from childhood when all ladybugs were still vivid and bold.

With that the ladybug leaps into a current and is swept aloft and away.

last summer sent

It’s a warm spring day, the first one in months.

You’re so excited that you throw on your summer clothes and run outside as fast as you can.

The sun hits you in the eyes and you’re stunned and you stumble off the porch.
You right yourself on the bottom step and gingerly step off.
You hold a hand over your eyes. You lean back. And squint at the sun.

The sun is out, its heat washes over you.

You’re sitting under a tree. You watch the sky brighten. There’s a pale yellow swatch where the grey usually is.
There are wisps of clouds lingering about. Little by little they break and fade.

The tree’s rustling leaves cast an ever changing dance overhead. You feel formless shadows take shape. As they come into being they become aware of each other. Excited that they are not alone they swarm. They mingle. They grow aquainted. And fade back into the formless.

It is hot and you are reclining in the shade.

Your fingers brush through the scrub and dirt. You dig at small and grind rough pebbles into your finger tips. You sift moist soil through your fingers. The smell of living earth takes you back to simpler times. [takes you back to simpler times -or- takes you to a simpler time?]

Sheep are grazing on the next hill over. The herder looks happy. There’s something in that gauzy shape,
the way it sway with the wind…
Yeah, he must be happy.

The shaggy grass tickles behind your knees. You brush it away and there’s a
lady bug sitting on your knee. It’s a red one. A dark red ladybug from childhood—
back when ladybugs were vivid and bold. She opens her wing covers and talks about summer and the smell of dirt, about heat and thawing. She jumps into a current and is swept along.

You are in the shade watching ladybugs dance in sunlight.

Summer girl 7

You are unwillingly pulled out of a dead slumber by something incomprehensible. Slowly opening eyes puzzle over floating things streaked with light. It’s disturbing and strange. Alarmed, you set up in bed and try to make sense of it.

The sun is out!

You throw on summer clothes and rush outside. The sun hits your eyes. Stunned, you stumble off the pourch. Shadded eyes squint at the sun.

Heat washes over you!

You sit under a tree and watch the sky brighten. There’s a pale yellow swatch where the grey usually is. Wisps of clouds are still lingering about; little by little they break and fade.

Rustling leaves cast a dance overhead. Heat and cold swirl over your skin. You feel formless shadows take shape and become aware. They swarm and mingle. They grow aquainted, and fade back into the formless.

It is hot and you are reclining in the shade!

You brush through scrub and dirt. You dig at small roots. You grind rough pebbles into moist soil. The smell of living earth is reminicent of another time.

Sheep graze on the next hill over. A gauzy yellow shape sways with the wind. It is surrounded by puffs of white that, for the most part, stay anchored to the ground.

It is a weightless summer day and sheep are bubbling away!

Shaggy grass tickles your knees. You brush it away and suddenly there’s a ladybug. A red one. A dark red ladybug from childhood–when ladybugs were still vivid and bold. She opens her wing covers and spins in a circle. You join in her rejoicing of summer. She is excited about the smell of dirt, the sweetness of aphids. She praises the heat and thawing, and leaps into a current and is swep aloft.

You are in the shade watching ladybugs dance in sunlight!

Summer girl 3

It’s a warm spring day, the first one in months.

You’re so excited that you throw on your summer clothes and run outside.

The sun hits you in the eyes, you’re stunned, you stumble off the porch.
You right yourself on the bottom step and gingerly step off.
Shading your eyes, you lean back and squint at the sun.

The sun is out, its heat washes over you.

You’re sitting under a tree. You watch the sky brighten. There’s a pale yellow swatch where the grey usually is.
Wisps of clouds are still lingering about; little by little they break and fade.

The tree’s rustling leaves cast an ever changing dance overhead. You feel formless shadows take shape. As they come into being they become aware of each other. Excited that they are not alone they swarm. They mingle. They grow aquainted. And fade back into the formless.

It is hot and you are reclining in the shade.

Your fingers brush through the scrub and dirt. You dig at small roots and grind rough pebbles into your finger tips. You sift moist soil through your fingers. The smell of living earth takes you back to a simpler time.

Sheep graze on the next hill over. The shepherd is a gauzy yellow shape swaying with the wind. It’s amazing that the puffs of sheep don’t float away, somehow they stay anchored to the ground.

It is a weightless summer day and you’re back in Ireland watching sheep.

The shaggy grass tickles behind your knees. You brush it away and there’s a
lady bug sitting on your knee. It’s a red one. A dark red ladybug from childhood—
back when ladybugs were vivid and bold. She opens her wing covers and rejoices about summer and the smell of dirt, about heat and thawing. She jumps into a current and is swept along.

You are in the shade watching ladybugs dance in sunlight.