bears can be that way
when you forget them
they still play
I mean the kind
you wind up and
sweet music plays
and plays all day
when you're away
I've got to say
it's easier than I thought
to write a poem about them
you may scoff, but
bears can be that way.
(all afternoon, and then
there's ice cream}
I hear them call
all the way to the corner
where the bus lets us off
and down the hall to
my sister and I
in our apple pie skirts
what's for dessert? their furry voices ring
and we're abandoning
our satchels stuffed with homework
that's got to be finished late
cause bears, you know,
won't wait
where ice cream's concerned
no matter what you learned about them
today in school.
(with fudge sauce...)
mary angela douglas 11 january 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem