LADYBUG IN BED

by Arthur Smid

Turn your head. Tie your tie.
The doctor arrives with tears in his eyes.
Wash your hands. The water boils.
I break down and cry when the baby arrives.

The healing of a ladybug.
She cries but not for me.
She’s sad impersonally,
For identical realities

Join with bird wings and bed sheets,
For night is in climax, a dream.

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