Tag Archives: poem about ladybugs

Ladybug, maybe
because you’re bright red
or it could be the polka-dots–
It’s like an infestation of something round
and cheerful—
turtles, or raspberries.
Or maybe it’s that you’re such an April insect,
inspiring nearly everyone to recite poetry
about the big subjects: Fiery disaster,
Children leaving home,
Your plucky effort to save that one child,
the youngest, of course,
who, God know why,
hid beneath the pudding pan.
Maybe it’s because of that story 
I consider you kindly,
think you so harmless.
You seem so old-fashioned then–
to even have a pudding pan
much less a child beneath it.