What’s that bear doing on the tracks?
He wants to ride the train.
Don’t let him board without a ticket!
I think of Arctus who sought his mother,
Callisto, changed into a bear by Zeus;
pursued by Hera’s jealous rage.
Authorities armed with rifles followed
our local bear, made no effort to catch
or intervene so long as he was not aggressive.
Neanderthals buried bears beside their kin.
Bears carry the sarcophagus of Christ,
as illustrated in medieval manuscripts.
Our bear didn’t care about a ride.
He harvested blackberries beside the tracks.
Bear and berry, they’re almost the same word.
As the moon sets in the west, the great bear rises.
In the North the hunt begins. The bear’s blood
falls to earth, turns autumn leaves red.
This bear must have been a young male.
Old bears chase them out of their territories.
They don’t want competition for the sow’s attention.
Ancient myths tell of a young girl married to a bear.
Her cubs became great hunters and teachers.
Modern myths let Goldilocks go home.
The local bear was later sighted at a fire hall.
He moseyed through several back yards.
He won’t come back to buy a ticket.