ursa minor

you see another out in the nowhere
where by rights there should be none
and what are they doing out here
well
what am I doing out here.

the bear is more afraid of you
than you are of it.
and the man thinks the bear thinks:
the man is more afraid of tooth and claw
than I am of 165 grain soft nosed bullets

and the bear thinks: well of course
because you know what claws are.
what the fuck is a bullet.

in the starstudded absolute wilderness.
ancient light through the spangled lid of the
ancient vault. beyond the firmament curtain
what terrible light. winking shuttles weave
weft and warp between here and forever.

through telescope lens I, the bear,
placidly contemplate portents in
muzzle flash.