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Polar Bear
Polar Bear
White on white, barely seen,
Its senses aroused and keen.
The legs move cautiously,
And paws touch snow softly;
The chionophile mills, then stills.
And breathes intermittently,
While its heart beats slowly,
With black nose sniffing,
And brown eyes squinting;
Ears prick forward, listening.
Something tells the bear,
Something is out there!
A scent in the breeze
Or a sound echoing,
That piques its curiosity.
Early spring and darkness evaporates,
The bay ice makes hunting excellent.
A solitary predator by reason
Except in season,
The boar proceeds in that direction.
Copyright ©
Dennis Spilchuk
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