A ladybug landed on his shirt
and stretched her wings
he offered his finger
and she mounted
accepting the wrinkled,
time-caked skin
of his knuckle
as a short term lease
before taking off
He watched her fly away
for as long as his eyes could follow
before she vanished
leaving in her place
a young, beautiful woman
standing on the other side of the road
dressed as a ladybug
He was always between
his past and his future,
though never in the present
He stood between the heart-swelling glory
of green leaves and pink clouds,
between chance, providence,
and the abject fear
of the possibility
that none of it even mattered
