Bear Tracks


Bear tracks

fresh and clear

like cookie crumbs

on the forest floor

we know he is there

so we call to him

let him know we are here

sharing his evening air


We never see him

but we sense his ambling gait

we never smell him

but conjure up the muskiness

we never hear him

but his snorts skirt our thoughts


We fall into calmness

imagining his quest

for secrecy and berries

among the trees and ferns

wearing the evening

like a cloak


By Carys Owen


Footnote– I read this poem at a poetry

evening on Monday then on

Tuesday morning I saw a bear cross

the road just ahead of me- the

only one I’ve seen this year.

Did he/she hear me?

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