The image of the white bear is back
It’s almost entirely white. An infinite white
mountainside and the white bear
with her cubs tumbling between her legs
She turns her head towards the wind
I’m thinking of her black moist muzzle
but I can only see her head seeking
backwards and forwards
She knows she can smell a male long before
he smells her. And that is her one
advantage. The male believes the cubs are rivals
in the mating season
As she move sideways up the mountain and
disappears over the edge, my book gently closes
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