The Death of a Little Bug

Outside my classroom, a little bug was smashed

But when we checked on it 

His two thin antennae were still twitching

I went inside and thought of his final minutes of breath

In my last few minutes I’d rather be in the warm, still sun 

I scooped him up and placed him outside

His real home 

To pass peacefully on the pavement 

In the warm, still sun