some bears wake

some bears wake in winter
to snow and stone –
too soon and alone
a dense isolate against the gray

I imagine the great shaking
of sleep from fur –
the unconsidered solitude
the dark, inviolate grace

the huff and shudder
of breath and muscle –
and then the moving forward
into pale emptiness

of necessity, resolute

© Sarah Whiteley

6 Comments

      1. Sometimes the best poems come as surprises. 🙂
        (I understand about not being able to write, though. Same problem here. Partly it’s just me, and partly it’s these stressful times we’re living in…. Thankfully writer’s block is always temporary and I’ll look forward to more poetry from you in the near future!) ❤

        Like

        Reply

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