Pressing Poem by Pierre Rausch

He could see the parallel cuts
He reached down and pulled the blade
The shiny brass of twin bracelets
Alone in the camp on the morning

Three hundred and fifty miles
One cub stood on hind legs
How far to crawl in one day
At the image staring back

Pressing against the sow with it's nose
He added as much wood to the fire
He kept crawling, spiraling inward
But rather a starting line

Three hundred and fifty miles
One cub stood on hind legs
How far to crawl in one day
At the image staring back

Three hundred and fifty miles
One cub stood on hind legs
How far to crawl in one day
At the image staring back

And though his strength has not returned
Now has advantages that he had
With stocking grid