Dora Sigerson Shorter’s “Beware” turns two tiny, thoughtless acts of cruelty into something deeply unsettling. A speaker closes their hands around a moth, expecting broken wings, but instead finds a bleeding human heart. Later, they crush a worm crawling through the garden and uncover a dying human soul. The poem suggests that even the smallest creature has an inner life worth protecting, and that casual violence against nature is never really small. The speaker seems startled and guilty, as though seeing the true cost of their actions for the first time. The repeated structure gives the poem a hushed, almost haunted quality, and the title “Beware” lands like a whispered warning: pay attention to what you harm, because it may matter more than you think.
Beware — Summary
I CLOSED my hands upon a moth And when I drew my palms apart,
Instead of dusty, broken wings, I found a bleeding human heart.
I crushed my foot upon a worm That had my garden for its goal,
But when I drew my foot aside I found a dying human soul.