Crushed

When I was little my mom kept chickens

I loved them

I took care of them all, gave them names as they were special

And like any other day
In my little puddle boots with flowers

I squished a baby chick underneath my foot

Instantly

I felt the sheer weight of myself

But it was too late
It laid there, eyes up and searching for something
I wept out of anger holding its lifeless body

I had failed

I love small creatures

They're so fragile


The smallest thing I held was a baby shrew

It's legs were crushed flat by my old grey cat

I held it in my palm and watched the chest rise
And fallI

I asked my dad for a box to put him in

His usual look had changed when he saw the small thing

Something hardened 

He instructed me to kill it, to put it to rest mercifully

In the rain, I stood out in my big red puddle boots

The shrew laid on the ground with a beating chest

I took a big rock in my arms
Holding it above the baby, I just let go
Instantly
It was just gone

Crushed beneath my pretty boots again