Poetry

A prose poem in a series of prose poems

Ruidoso, NM | Polaroid film | photo by author

The camp host told us there was word of a bear near the store. Wandering, meandering, they were watching it. The letters danced, considering forming a sentence, still deciding. My heart split in two, wanting to see that rumble bumble, bristly beast, maybe scratching his back on a tree, maybe investigating the dumpster; wanting peace and safety far from enormous crushing jaws…