Issue > Poetry
The Bear
I have decided on the grizzly.
To want it; to have it amble before me,
not across a thicket of light years
slowed in the dimensional sky,
igneous and drifting—too mythical—
but determined on the soft-shorn
ridgeline of a sloping glacial hill.
My bear moves constantly so that
unless I shift it slips outside of sight
and heads for the next, higher. My bear
it moves as straight as sun clouds.