You Are Supposed To Play Dead
She came charging down on me with her full weight.
I wanted to be invisible, but it did not happen.
I was gripped tightly in the throes of death.
She was tearing me apart, in pieces
Unconcerned with my screams.
I was quiet now, smeary, a bloody mess.
A carcass in pieces. I watched horrified.
Worried about what my Cub Scout troop would see in the morning.
Never try to outrun a grizzly, my dad had always said.
I knew I was supposed to drop down and play dead,
but who can do that? My grandmother put her arm on my shoulder.
You have seen enough, she said.
We headed toward the light.
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