La Louve
The scent has come inside,
through rough-hewn logs
and settled on the skin
of last year's black,
a bear of grizzly size.
It was La Louve herself,
now free of pups again
out in the wild and free
to roam, to stalk, to kill.
The hunter hears the call,
and stays alert and still.
The cave it dweled inside upon it's poo the long quite winter within.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A ManGo… (HeRbuttal) ....: ~) A man go hunting a stalker’s call Fruit of paradise a mango falls Deep yellow delicious, a sticky treat Fullness in mouth, no room to speak