Ladybird Copyright © Jen Overett 2011

When I was maker of your sky,
I sent you playing
Full of fiercest care,
And saw the sleeping ladybird
You gathered in your palm that day -
Red spot on pink;

A sister for your travels
To the bottom of our yard (your world);
But then, when you returned her to her leafy bed,
You found her final dream so deep
She fell to the hard ground -
Red spot on brown.

I watched you stand stock still and howl,
Hollow, clear and raw (I hear it now) -
Smear of pain on blue.
There was a gentle hum of bees,
Summer flowers sighed,
A verdant avenue opened then and there,

And in the distance, adulthood,
Where you must go alone -
Truth to the bone
I saw the road was long for you,
But did not weep or speak of it,
And could not hold you back.

And now we meet for coffee, lunch, a film,
Your chat is young and bright,
You wear a jacket I’ve not seen before,
We hardly touch the half of it
But smile and laugh -
Thread of love through busy lives.

You do not tell me much of what you’ve learned,
Of loss and warmth and loneliness,
The one whose hand brushed yours,
The aching seeking heart of it;
Nor how the wide sky shines for you -
Sparks of fire on starry black.