A Bear

I wasn’t sure I could believe

In fact, I doubted him

Hours spent in these woods and fields

Have not yielded a single bear for my eyes

In 44 years

His imagination, vivid at times

Perhaps chemically inflamed

But the description fit

The situation plausible

I want to believe in

Simply the thought of bears

rumbling the cotton rows of our farm

scratching their backs on the

rough bark of the pine trees

and sitting in the shade of a chinaberry

eating stolen watermelons11-9-15

Published by