Bear

It’s not my track,

I say, seeing

The ball of the foot and the wide heel

And the naily, untrimmed

Toes. And I say again,

For emphasis,

To no one but myself, since no one is

With me. This is

Not my track, and this is an extremely

Large foot, I wonder

How large a body must be to make

Such a track, I am beginning to make

Bad jokes .I have read probably

A hundred narratives where someone saw

Just what I am seeing. Various things

Happened next. A fairly long list, I won’t

Go into it. But not one of them told

What happened next-I mean, before whatever happens-

How the distances light up, how the clouds

Are the most lovely shapes you have ever seen, how

The wild flowers at your feet begin distilling a fragrances

Different, and sweeter than any you ever stood upon-how

Every leaf on the whole mountain is aflutter.