Mosquitoes And Blackflies Poem by Chi

Where do we draw the line
between living things that we kill,
and those we let live?

I am tortured
when I unwittingly kill a ladybug
or mistakenly stick it with paint as it sleeps
(you know how 'invasive' they are at spring time
if you work in home restoration) .

I am tortured when I unwittingly step
over a busy ant, then see it fall limp
after striving to wake up and carry on.

The black flies and mosquitoes
that bay for my blood when I work?
I clap at them with both hands,
and tell myself: ‘I do this in self-defense’

But deep down the guilt persists:

‘Must thou kill? What right do you have
to take away life freely given by another?
Is it because you feel like a lord of creation? ’

And so I worry often.

And sometimes I have tried to save
some of the insects I have unwittingly hurt.
I remember one desperate moment
I got a fly stuck in paint,
and after I failed to save it,
and it wouldn't give up, I wondered aloud
if there were a hospital for insects, maybe I could have–

then I let go my stupidities.

That would be too much for my friends to bear,
if they could hear that.

But where do you draw the line
between living things that you kill,
and those you let live?