she (for all ladybugs
must be shes) was like us
pale devoid of vivid color

anemic from winter nights
and early spring suns
that hid behind scornful clouds

the lady did not wear
the brilliant red
of midsummer

more the orange
of mid-winter tomatoes
pale imitations

an adventurer
one who braves
still frozen nights

and the pledge of spring
in the ersatz warmth
that lasts but a day

she is strong this bringer of spring
pastel hiding determination
brilliant in bravery

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