Ladybug

This ladybug
has been exploring my carpet
all morning and I don’t understand
why it doesn’t use its wings to fly to less
monotonous territory
instead of doggedly clambering
over every tuft,
intent only on its goal and seemingly
oblivious to the redundancy
of its actions- content to traverse its mini moonscape
in solitude, probably humming to itself
as it goes.

drift

I’d like to stay a while in the pre-verbal hours
of a promisingly prurient morning, when
slow smiles and eyelashes
were sufficient communication and the call of a mourning
dove provided punctuation
to a conversation
initiated
by the curve of shoulder, encouraged
by the shape of shadow lingering just below
your collar bone, and caught
in the sound our breath made
as we gradually
came awake.