One-Eyed Black Bear

A poem about the loss of the wild and more

Photo by Marc-Olivier Jodoin on Unsplash

He’s in the trash again.
In plastic un-biodegradable bags
and coffin waste, like empty prayers.
He’s searching for something more,
I can tell from his frantic movements,
wild eyes, his grunting and wheezing,
coughing up whatever won’t leave
his lungs.