For 100 years the black bear feared.
He hibernated on a rocky shelf.
A picture specimen of perfect health
Slumbering, known to live alone.
First in good stead, the walls of the cave
Weaken, light beacons through the cracks,
Collapsing at last in on his head.
That jagged bed of violent rocks
Will hold him in stone cold stocks
Of medieval design, trapped for a time.
He escapes the life of solitary sleep.
He takes one, then another, and moves it aside,
To discover, To find, he was better inclined,
To be out in the air, aware of the world.