The Bear

Bear Scat in FallThe Bear  
 
1.

In late winter
I sometimes glimpse bits of steam
coming up from
some fault in the old snow
and bend close and see it is lung-colored
and put down my nose
and know
the chilly, enduring odor of bear.

–Galway Kinnell

Bear Paw

My journey to the Upper Peninsula was the path of the bear. A journey to find myself and my path. At Mike’s Camp we have a bear that lets us know he is there, but we have never seen him, just what he leaves behind.

When I moved my family to the Upper Peninsula, each home we toured with a real estate agent had sign of bear. Even the hotel that we stayed at while traveling had a barrel-bear-trap set up near the dumpsters. One home had a window in a garage that a bear had reached through. The home we bought in 1993 near Gwinn had a neighborhood bear that would climb in my neighbors jeep to drink from “empties” not yet returned for deposit at the grocery store. That was many years ago and now at camp the bear comes to me.

I lumber trails with him in my dreams. It is that time of year.

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About kimnixon

Upper Peninsula Michigan Artist and Writer

Posted on November 20, 2007, in Magic Lands, Nature Writing, Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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