COME ON BEARS!

in this wilderness of bears, this wilderness of sea,
the      headlights        
diffuse                 through
nylon  wall,                        the fire
crackles               to
low                                        
voices                            singing secret sadnesses.

I am
tight in red stuffing,   my feet fighting the flannel
lining for air.

The bears are
grunting now, coming closer with            breath,
scratching the nylon,

and

we are asleep with murders in malevolent winds
white-capping the wide waters,               waking
sleeping seas to come crashing        over the tent
the bears are just there on the other               side
smelling the flesh  within roaring      now     and
licking their lips                    indifferently

they laugh before they enter

and Yet

I saw myself in 30 years on a road to winters. Spandex shorts, cankered beard, neon sleeves against the cold, heading in the same direction, a headwind, cadence slightly slower.

"Keep your head down," I said and looked at me with stern eyes.

"Keep moving. Forward." I replied and looked back at the road.