Cherish me, a ladybug,
a good luck girl,
landing on your biking leg
feet from the greenest riverbed.
Perched in the crack of
Grandpa’s shed.
The biggest surprise
on a slithering spring day.
Eating my way
through garden pests.
My hard shell
gives the predators hell.
Lift my origami wings,
convertible mobility,
a treasure to an eight-year-old,
redhead, moving within sunlight.
Down from hot tin,
a spiraling stripe descends,
Copperhead, barely out of range.
Girl’s touch, a lucky exchange.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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