And rustling in the thickets. Turning there
I watched. Out of the foliage came in sight
The head and blundering shoulders of a bear,
Glistening in sable black, with beady stare
Of eyes towards me, and no room to fly
—But padding soft and slow the beast came by.
16
“And—mark their flattery—stood and rubbed his flank
Against me. On my shaken legs I felt
His heart beat. And my hand that stroked him sank