Poem: Morry and the bear

By: Milt Montague

bear

harken to this tale of a friend
of a friend…….

home from the terror of the war
scarred from many wounds
almost whole again
facing life alone
disgusted with civilization
it’s wars and politics
posturing and outright lies

left his home town
seeking peace
walked into the woods
alone with a few supplies
the deeper he went
the calmer he felt

stumbled upon an old miners shack
Morry thought
here alone with nature
he could rest awhile
until his brain fever cooled

making the shack livable
gave him a sense of purpose
days went by
turned into weeks
interspersed by long treks into town for supplies
here he could stay
until……

time went by
slowly thawing
the iceberg in his head
watching the grass grow
listening to birdsong
watching a doe nibble on wild berries
almost smiling

in town he heard the big news
a local had killed a nursing black bear
everyone was hunting her cub or cubs

sitting in front of his cabin
Morry saw something black
moving in the grass
grabbing his rifle he went after the critter
to discover a baby black bear
emaciated and whining for it’s mother
putting aside his rifle
feeling sympathy towards another
one of nature’s troubled children
he patted the cub and spoke to it
offered a piece of beef jerky
followed by a can of spam

Morry named his new buddy Sam
both seemed to thrive that summer
Sam grew quickly and started to go off
on his own for a few days at a time
always bounding back home
to Morry’s whistle

a new life opened for him
he had a buddy to talk to
to hunt wild berries and fruit trees
he was no longer alone

Morry hiked into town
cashed his monthly veterans pension check
bought supplies for himself and Sam
especially spam
as Sam grew so did his absences
as did Morry’s beard
as did local town gossip about

THE WILD MAN AND HIS BLACK BEAR
Morry only smiled at his new found fame
at the local bar for his monthly glass of beer
Sam was fully grown now
when he stood on hind legs
was taller than Morry

time passed
the legend grew until ….
Morry’s check lay unclaimed
in the post office
a group of locals [armed with rifles]
decided to check on him
discovered his half-eaten remains
outside his cabin

 

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