Ursa

A Natseeho tribute
for that is what I am
not by choice
at least not my own choosing
still chosen

Yet, to tell the truth
I am in a Migisi season on the wheel
soaring high on the wings
of an eagle
looking down from far above and seeing mice, buffalo, bears

But I return home
because Lovett sings it proud
They just don't come no better than a bear

Bears have been driven out of the wilderness
yet they return
to compost heaps
trash cans
dumpsters
we are proud and mighty
saavy enough to scavange

Ursus americanus
you'll find us in the Southland
among the pines
omnivors
through and through
adaptable
as the wheel spins and the weather shifts
climates change
and so we shift as well
changing weight on giant haunches

Sharp claws
are best
for pickin' on that banjo in a stringband
one for which we were made

West to Cherokee
East to Wilmington
and points between
we lie resting
hibernating
in the rolling hills
of tobacco road

We take on the Bull
and take none of it