the bug bodied boy swept
the once green now brown
barren ground with tiny dirty hands
just like he once was swept
picked from ground that once grew
something and that something
was beautiful once
it must’ve been.
he found a tiny bug body
accidentally found
itself in his careful hands
and wondered how it would live
how would that body be nourished
by a land that grows no longer?
he looked at his own shriveled bug body and
thought of the hunger that exists inside
does this bug feel the same
does it’s half-alive
half-shriveled
half-forsaken body
feel the same?
in that instance the bug bodied boy felt
a chill of cool wind that
tall sunflowers did sway in
he felt the cold sun that once spit fire at
all that lived and looked to the ground
to try and remember
what the flowers looked like gracing the sky
reaching for God
the bug boy tried to pray over the
poor critter, but he couldn’t remember the words
he couldn’t force his swollen pain ridden tongue
to move
he wept and wept
the tears racing down
to rain on the bug
God couldn’t or wouldn't save
and the water reminded the bug
in it’s bug body
of what it was like to feel.
the bug bodied bug found a spark of life
in the sorrow of the bug bodied boy and
brought its small mouth to kiss the hand of the boy
before it left the bug bodied boy and as the bug flew away
with its dry wings that would resemble stained glass in the sun
if there were sun
the boy remembered
what it was like
when God left.
the bug bodied boy swept
the once green now brown
barren ground with tiny dirty hands and
for the first time in how long he couldn’t remember
heard the voice of God
marvel;
You in your scrunched bug body,
You in your metamorphosis.
Salem Burdett, 21, is a Creative Writing major at Agnes Scott College with a deep love for poetry and nonfiction. Their work often explores identity and the small details that shape the human experience. Salem’s writing has been featured in The Aurora, Agnes Scott’s Literary Magazine.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 