<p>
&nbsp;</p>
<p>
&nbsp;</p>
<p>
The heatwave lured them:</p>
<p>
Miniature poppies with spidery legs.</p>
<p>
They marched to find a home</p>
<p>
beneath the blistering heat.</p>
<p>
&nbsp;</p>
<p>
Home, a moisture starved leaf.</p>
<p>
A Swan Vestas matchbox,</p>
<p>
air holes punched with a blunt pencil</p>
<p>
they lose their breath as you fight for yours.</p>
<p>
&nbsp;</p>
<p>
That year your health deteriorated,</p>
<p>
beginning to fail the strong thirty</p>
<p>
something body of old.</p>
<p>
Your heart pumping under pressure.</p>
<p>
&nbsp;</p>
<p>
Your coffin was covered in fresh red roses</p>
<p>
Their leaves trimmed and watered.</p>
<p>
I bury the punctured match box and</p>
<p>
hold a funeral&nbsp; of my own for the ladybirds.</p>
<p>
&nbsp;</p>
<p>
&nbsp;</p>