Jorge Evans | Lady Bugs

Ladybugs
—After James Richardson, after Keats

I.
Though you seal every shuttered
window, brace every door,
they come every year with fervor
in late October
through helpless windows,
a kiss or slip below the pane.
That month, filled with one
ended fights, constant fuzz
of a TV on channel one,
could be our undoing.

II.
Like ghosts they aren't there,
holding level in stale fall—
but look in late October,
they form in small pockets,
              in rooms
with purposes, agendas.

They would go home if they had one,
but the cold dead concede,
              and pass.

By Jorge Evans

Jorge Evans was born and raised in central and southern Illinois. He earned two BA degrees at Southern Illinois University, Carbondale—one in Philosophy, one in English. He is currently working on his MFA in poetry at Minnesota State University, Mankato.

(This poem appeared in a previous version in The Allegheny Review)

© Copyright 2007 Jorge Evans