Little Bear

Because it is spring and I am lonely for the sight of bears that don’t visit here anymore I write poems about what was. This one was written many years ago…

Little Bear

you come

under the cover

of dusk

padding over

to the feeder

to sniff and nibble

seeds we left.

Lying down

in thick woods

you feel safe.

If only scent

could calm.

A little girl

 longs to see

you in lime

  leafed light,

aches to 

 befriend you

in a rose gold

dawn. 

If only

Trust could weave

a fragile strand,

a gossamer thread

between us

Little Bear.

If only

the Child’s

Sight,

 Heart,

Mind,

 Body

could be

restored

to Joy,

we might

see you once more.

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