Bad, Bad Bodhisatva
Even though I vowed not to kill
I kill upward of 30 key lime green caterpillars
that are eating my hibiscus hedge down to sticks.
This last one, before I stopped
paused its eating,
lifted its mouth,
and turned its head toward the pressure of the scissors
as I was about to snip it in half.
I saw that it saw me
or felt me
or knew that I was about to harm it,
but I killed it,
ashamed of my human nature
as it leads me,
into the snare.
This poem is forthcoming in the Santa Fe Literary Review, fall 2017