Corey Anne Hemmerich’s poem The Unmade Bed appeared here in May 2011.
a little, plain boy
By Corey Anne Hemmerich
a little, plain boy
who wandered grass barefoot
who never knew I was there
who wandered grass barefoot
who never knew I was there
in his small-full world
he grabbed hold of leaves
and ripped long blades of weeds,
sang high hollers o’er flower-minding meadows
and flung-sung deep furrows in coils up high on the wind
He was priceless–perfect.
Not perceiving me,
but giving none the same.
There’s something about this little boy that makes me want to know more.