and exploration, not destruction,
the boy pulls the wings from a Monarch butterfly.
he knows it would live only a few months, anyway.
(in the wild)
but he hadn't meant to kill it.
(or even maim it)
what had he been thinking?
and now there is shock and exasperation as the
still-alive 'butterfly corpse-to-be' scurries on the dirt
looking like a roach or beetle; wingless,
ugly as a monster
why the tears?
as the bug crawls out of sight
the boy looks down
on his hand of judgment
on his fingers; residue the color of a tiger.