Not by killing or through her own fragility

by bringing in lizards from the garden.

Play things. Hidden under the rug

she gives them away

with her sniffing interest.

Mostly I coax them onto the dustpan

to carry gently outside. Or I find them later

dusty in corners and stiff.

Heads curled under

tails missing

light.

So light the breeze takes them

before I make it to the rose bush.

© Saradha Koirala 2009