Bears for Anne E. Lacy 1951-2002

You are a bear
I saw from the road
Who turned and sniffed.
So beautiful,
So busy to run off,
So sure that fall
Was coming too soon.

I lie in bed
Rooting the covers,
Trying to hibernate,
Or look for the end
Of winter over my shoulder
in the mirror,
And at night I walk the beach
Secretly practicing shaking moonlight
From my back.

In the morning
I see dogs have been in the trash,
But as I bend to pick it up
I tell myself it's bears.




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