"A thing of beauty is a joy forever" - John Keats
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The Bear's Lair
five toes meant one thing.
he was near.
I followed his tracks.
passed a dead buck.
probably taken down by a bullet.
I secured my handgun and my rifle.
I must get the jump on him.
I tip-toed creekside.
then, suddenly,
on the other bank,
I heard an air-shaking growl.
my whiskey warmed mouth mumbled.
his jaw opened wide, his body
full of wanton hunger.
I grimaced. he'd be a trophy
if I could take him.
he rose on his hind legs.
I swallowed twice. cocked my gun.
but he was fast.
me clumsy.
he crossed back and grabbed me.
I hung in his teeth like a toy.
this is it. my last act.
the headlines will read
eaten by a bear.
but no, the ordeal continued.
he dragged me
through the gurgling stream
into bushes and across beds of rocks.
bruised me bad.
when we reached the beast's den,
I knew I'd be dinner.
I saw mama bear
and her growing cubs.
they motioned back and forth
with their paws.
I understood.
they said
I'd make a great rug.
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Wahkeena Falls
(Beautiful Woman in Yakima Native Language)
she's blazing rain
when you're under her body.
she cleans your ears
and that which is in between.
goes over a granite shelf
then splashes into a booming bowl.
bright, white and sassy,
hops rocks,
flows beneath downed limbs.
then in calm repose,
flees to the river.
like a singing maiden
like a curious cat,
she soothes.
her bare elegance, unrestrained beauty
takes you away from asphalt, night cries,
skyscrapers and city panderings.
I can walk in her wilds,
get wet, laugh, boast,
and even master my old stories,
the ones that eat at me.
here my mind cashes in on peace.
I'm always welcome.
I come to find the part of me
I put away, hide in my pocket,
that secret spice in my thoughts,
the shapes in my wistful dreams. I reflect.
she's my mirror.
upon leaving, I always thank her.
in winter her body rips out a rhapsodic roar.
wind gusts beat their blasts upon
her body, twist her outpourings.
I inhale gold.
then salute her.
she lives up to her gifts.
her droplets touch your face
like soft winter kisses.
I come each week with the satisfaction
of knowing she
is never somewhere else.
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