Photo by Tony Bynum

Back 40: Griz

There are times sitting in the meadow,
listening to wind across brown grass,
watching end-of-day light
travel end-of-summer mountains,
when I feel so certain
this is the right place —
my life has at last turned to face
what should and what must be faced —
that even the possibility of a grizzly bear
sneaking close, pulling down, devouring,
does not enter the mind,
does not touch the reverie.
Ready for anything
is what I’m saying, even death.
Then the moment passes
and I glance over my shoulder.

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