The Jivin' Ladybug


Chris Degon

Particle Bird


The Dust on the floor looks like a Dove,

Dead, with its neck twisted

By Cruel Hands.


The slightest bit of wind

Moves the particles,

Further Mangling

Its Avian Image


Claws tense, feathers askew,

And beak shattered,

The dust stares.

The Dove

My Dove

Pleads for help


Out of pity, I blow,

The Dust rises,

The Dove ascends,

Into a million diamond facets

Which Dazzle,

Then go out of focus.



The Jivin' Ladybug- A Skewered Journal of the Arts
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