Monday, January 9, 2017


Black Bear

Who carried the rain on his back

Who we haven’t seen for a very long time

Who knows this

Who ran like me if I ran for my life

Who crossed the wet dirt road without a track

Who had me look over the same place twice

Who mussed the deep pool river

Who reminded me of nothing else

Who crossed the road and hit a vertical bank

Who vanished up that bank of trees and brush venetian

Who isn’t easy to forget

Who isn’t a riddle


There was a weasel

In the yard for months

Then one day there was

A hawk in the yard

Only his head moved

In the tree

When the hawk was gone

The weasel was gone


They squawk & bite

& hit & scream &

Shit in your path

& destroy & you

Chase them into the

Pond in a rage

& they float

She Talks

Standing in a

Chain saw repair

Shop waiting for a

New chain to be

Fitted onto her

Homelite, most of

Us standing close

To the wood stove,

Gloves icy, she

Said how today

Oodles of geese

Flew over her farm


Bob Arnold
Once In Vermont
Gnomon Books

photograph by