Invader Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Invader

In the eyes of their wings
Sad brown; beige, cream
I look and I can read:
“You, cruel, murderer”
I have killed their infants.

I’m ashamed so whisper:
“Did not know; unaware,
In the cold they are dead.”

They speak in their tongue,
Tongue of care, tongue of love,
They do not talk in mine…
I speak in the tongue of my need:
“Must be safe, keep clean…”

Then I look all around, deep and wide:
“This has been history;
Invasions out of need;
Farm or hunt, is killing
For the roof; and eating.”

But still I feel shame for being murderer
(Of the kids of the moths in kitchen.)