Green beetles

The night before your seventh birthday we play a game –
I must ferry you, a prince, from room to room

Your bare feet mustn’t touch the floor or else
green beetles everywhere!

I laugh and lug you down the hall to stand you in the bath.
For weeks now I’ve been yanking down the blinds to block the sun

which beats our kitchen window a solemn drum,
but while our game plays on there’s thunder then a rain so hard

it shakes the bathroom’s frosted pane Rain, Mum! Can you hear the rain?
I brush your teeth and shift you on my hip but how much longer

can I keep your feet from emerald beetles, scorching pavement, rising
water? I drop you gently on the sofa. Green beetles everywhere –

On the news we see the iceberg broken off Antarctica
is on its way towards South Georgia. It’s three years old, the scientist says.

But that’s nearly half of me.