The Polar Bear

The white beast of the arctic circle Stomping on the iridescent ice Traveling far and wide across Alaska Hunting for its next carnivore’s meal He likes the ocean as cold as it can Where he lives there is slush, not sand The beast rest in a cave one starry night They the sea reflecting the northern lights Walking along the cold Russian snow Her fur is transparent, it almost glows The icy wind is rough and sharp The bear finally smells some fresh carp Relaxing after her mighty kill She hasn’t eaten in a while doesn’t feel ill Sliding against the ice to find her cubs Sleeping peacefully in the snowy shrubs