Ladybirds

Brilliance is a carcass

on a snow-white beach.

Envy never sleeps.

I tell my children truthfully:

a long red beard is breaking

from the darkness scale.

He’s chasing you because

you’re new. Because he’s old

and sees the town in dirty tones:

violet sheep and wine-dark

corn. He burns the evening

rainbow like a wartime bridge

until it’s charred and charlatans

topple out of  robin eggs

and pox  your happy window

by capturing the ledge

and chattering like X-rays

that crash into your flesh.