poem: Amor Fat Bear
Amor Fat Bear
Tell me, O, where old bears go,
with mind still keen but body slow?
But O to me does not respond,
maw full of flesh and salmon spawn.
And year by year by year by year,
the old bear stalks the water clear.
Wise old beast, where do they go?
Still dead in dirt, froze under snow?
O naps now, on the water's side,
gentle yet firm and ever wide.
Though one year yet he will not wake,
brown bear of old cares not his fate.