Hello little beetle on my bed.
Shall I tell you my woes?
Shall I escort you outside?
Why haven’t you flown away?
You look to be a good listener.
You know this quilt I got from my mother.
I had always wanted it. Secretly hoped she’d give it to me.
It was one of her favorite quilts.
We both loved quilts.
We had matching ones.
But I buried my dog in that one.
I made it into a comfy bed for him in his final days.
So mom, your twin quilt is just a single now.
This is all I have left.
I figured she would never part with this one.
But she gave it to me.
She gave me this quilt that I loved so much.
I would have chosen her love instead.
So I hope you are comfortable on the quilt little beetle.
It is the last thing I have of my mother.
She used to call me little beetle
When I was little.
I liked being a little beetle.
Life was simple then.
Yep, I’m chatting with a beetle.
It is just beetle to beetle,
Because right now,
Only the beetle seems to hear me.