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 lone hunter.
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.
he's not taking me to the slaughterhouse.

but he was fast. me clumsy.
he crossed back.
his big teeth like bronze sculpture.
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
(Columbia River Gorge)

bright, white and sassy,
she hops rocks,
dives over a granite shelf.
she knows where she's going.
crowds gather.
lounge in her gypsy soft air.

each time it's like the first time.
she's incessant, mad,
a colossal lover.
her voice collides with my life.
moves into my heart's discreet places.
I find myself dreaming.
I play in her centuries old rocks.
upon leaving, I always thank her.

in winter her lone body swells.
rips out a rhapsodic roar.
her long lanky figure
spits, 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.