Friday, July 04, 2014

The Bear.

The bear rolled himself up out of the water
and waddled across the road-
he was thinking deeply, as all bears should,
about fish.
I am like a bear.  I scratch myself and yawn
loudly and make great bear-noises.
The bear was a lot like a bear.
He had nothing to hold on to-no family,
no friends, just his great big paws sifting
through the water for fish.
The fish are like all fish.  Fishing is simple.
The bear makes himself known to the local
fishermen who fear him and his  mighty gestures.
He waddles a little ways through the trees,
stops, and sniffs the air-the sky is filled with
smoke from a log house down a ways in the forest
of trees, in the forest of nights.  Nights are scary
in the woods; the bear knows this.

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