The Berry Patch

I like to think the bear was first

with her hunger and her humid strength,

but she'd not wade in from the road,

the path i took through timothy

when rain had ended and a deer fly,

barred-winged menace,

bit me on the elbow bone.


So not a bear, but surely

some other neighbor hungry

for the riches of the berry patch.

Oh, let that be the little mystery,

another thing i like. I feast,

and now another itch to scratch.