The bear is wading through the river
If only I could describe its Matted hair, its heaviness, The movement of its clumsy mitts, The river’s flash, its glinting salmon, The churning of the water, they Come from the bear. Where the river Flows, aspens grow, raccoons play, Twisting vines, turtles tangled In the scrub. Now men stand at The river. They are taking data, Unpeeling the secrets of moths and bats, In the river, they find the salmon And their eggs, clubtails, mayflies, And the river branches into streams Of northern pike, of walleyes, And northern leopard frogs, and Elk and moose, with their feet In the mud, soaking moss and snails, The bears catch the salmon, they eat, At night, the men lie on the backs, They watch the dizzying stars, They rejoice in the smell of pine Along the river they find feldspars, The river will feed them, its Rapids will froth for their children, The beaver will swim from its lodge, The bear will lumber out of its den.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Yaacov David Shulman
Archives
October 2019
Categories |