10" x 8" print
12" x 10" paper
Hand printed on Japanese Kozo (rice paper)
Price includes shipping within the U.S.
A copy of the poem will come with the print.
Just after Easter, the famished bear
rises from his lair to ravage
the neighborhood bird feeders.
Outside the bedroom window,
he alarms our tiny terrier who roars.
We flip on the porch light. Gawk.
The bear stands on his hind legs,
swipes the platform feeder—six feet
off the ground—with his tongue.
He paws the suet cage into his mouth.
Hugs the sunflower feeder to his chest.
Fills his empty craw, then paces
back and forth,
rolling his shoulders, swinging his head.
I bolt for the camera.
He gives a shrug, ambles through
the strawberry patch,
past the peach trees,
towards the feast across the street.
And, yea, though he walks
through our hemlock forest,
turning shadowy as he goes,
we are sore afraid.
What Rough Beasts
Littoral Books, 2021