I closed my hands upon a moth
 And when I drew my palms apart,
 Instead of dusty, broken wings,
 I found a bleeding human heart.
 I crushed my foot upon a worm
 That had my garden for its goal,
 But when I drew my foot aside
 I found a dying human soul.
Beware
written byDora Sigerson Shorter
© Dora Sigerson Shorter





