Holding Hands with a Bear

 

 

Using fingers and limited vision,
I admire the sculpture:
its rough body, teeth, removable scull,
paws made of clay-like material.
In reality, it would be dangerous
to be this chummy with such a creature,
but in the museum, the bear and I are friends.
He will not, can not, hurt me.

***

The above poem appears in the fall print issue of The Avocet. It was inspired by a time last year when I visited a museum with one of my local writing groups. Because of my limited vision, I was allowed to feel the sculpture of a bear. You can click below to hear me read it.

This image contains: me, smiling.