In the wilderness, the bears are the queens with their mad red hearts
screaming off with her head off with her head in their unbroken
                                                                                                    language
of silence.  I met her crossing an icefield on the Olympic peninsula
the color of dung and hungry after the longest of known winters.

She raised up and surveyed the emptiness fifteen miles in from
                                                                                                    nowhere.
I stood perfectly still in my bright red backpack and my solo
                                                                                                   inspirations.
It could have been the fierce day she saved her twins from the eternal
                                                                                                    enemy.
But she moved off after them, looking back only to see if I dare follow.