The Bite of a Harmless Bug

I saw a little

Caterpillar

On the playground one day

In the beginning of winter

He was making his way

Across the equipment

And I was absolutely in awe

At the perseverance

Of the little creature’s

Will to survive through the fall

I called my brother and sister over

To my side to take a look

We admired his teeny stripes

Of black and green and white

And his sharp pincer hooks

His wiggly antennae on his

Smooshy black face

And mused

“Is he going to turn into

A butterfly soon?”

With this weather his existence

Will soon be erased

I was enamored with the creature

And thought I would show him some love

I offered him my finger

To crawl onto

To see the world from above

What happened next I could never

Have imagined

And it probably won’t happen again

This caterpillar took a whopping bite

Of a bit of my skin

Such betrayal from my minuscule friend

In shock I flung him off

As far as I could

He disappeared into a speck

In the forest of mulch-wood

I shook off the ache

From the bug’s tiny bite

Still I had to admire his pluck

He put up a decent fight

My siblings wandered off

I gave a bemused shrug

To this day I still declare

I will always hate bugs!