I am the bear
in the branch
the branch on the wave
the branch-born bear
cut by wind, cut by
water, cut by a knife
branch born of root
non-thought, slow time
michelangelo said
‘release the angel in the marble’
ruben said, ‘I tried my best
here is a bear, for you’
smoothed by wind, smoothed by
water, smoothed by sand paper
the pipe in the pear tree dreams
of smoke tickling her spine
and the porcini in the peach wood
imagines rain-swollen size
I remember fishing sugar
from phloem streams
the bear before the blade
the solid ghost
I am the bear in the hand
and I had to die and float, die and float
sealed in bark, sealed in
salt, sealed in olive oil
the bear in the branch
the branch in the wave
the bear in the hand
the bear who wears sun