When the Bear Comes To My Garden - Martha Courtot

[Larry Robinson]

When the Bear Comes To My Garden

When the bear comes to my garden
       I will be ready
       I will soak my body in olive oil and honey
       I will wear nothing but sunflowers in my hair
       I will sit surrounded by talking stones
       I will let them speak for me
       when the bear comes to my garden
When the bear comes
       he will have a strong appetite
       he will show white teeth sharpened on my history
       he will make large footprints across the cucumber plants
       he will trample down the well-turned earth
       he will wash his strong bear scent over the whole garden
       he will scare the birds away
When the bear comes to my garden
       I will put down my poems
       I will plant the trowel of my work deep
       I will wait for his furred embrace
       I will cry no more
When the bear comes to my garden
       we will dance then
       our voices rising like leaves borne aloft
       our bodies swaying under an invisible net
       he will press himself against me
       he will be my last passion
We will fall earthward
       down into the deep cave
       forsaking metaphor finally
       we will look at each other for the first time
       home, he will whisper home, I will answer
       we will hum like bees at summer’s height
       in the morning when you find us wrapped around each other
       we will already have disappeared into the stars

	- Martha Courtot   
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