
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever" - John Keats
|
The Bear's Lair
five toes meant one thing.
he was near.
I followed his tracks.
passed a dead buck
probably taken down days before
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.
he was as big as mountain sky.
he had violence in his heart
and me in his eyes.
his jaw opened wide, his body
full of wanton hunger.
I grimaced. he'd be a trophy,
his head standing proudly
nailed to the wall,
that is, if I could take him.
he rose on his hind legs.
I felt dread. swallowed twice.
cocked my gun.
but he was fast.
me clumsy.
he crossed back.
his big teeth like bronze emblems.
I hung like a toy.
I thought 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 feared 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.

|
|
Wahkeena Falls
(Beautiful Woman in Yakima Native Language)
bright, white and sassy,
she hops rocks then dives
beneath downed trees.
she breathes magic.
I track her fine rain
and long leaping roar.
lounge in her gypsy soft air
as she rolls out to sea,
the way my dreams do.
she's a traveler and a place of rest,
a hotel for the lost mind.
she's old, ancient.
doesn't blink.
has watched many sacred souls
linger in her mountain mist.
heard their wild talk.
I toss around in her centuries old rocks.
if she was in another form,
she might be a street smart angel,
or the naked tears of love.
she's so companionable.
upon leaving, I always thank her.
in winter her lone body
rips out a rhapsodic roar.
spurious wind gusts bend her legs,
twist her as if she's a stick
of licorice candy.
she hisses and howls
yet her droplets touch your face
like soft winter kisses.
I come each week
with the satisfaction of knowing
she is never somewhere else.
|
|
|
|
|