DEATH WALKER

She ran to her car and hauled ass
down the road to find the wildlife
guys who had the bear
lying in the back of their truck.
It was a little bear, about the
size of a small man.
Chanting Tara, dusty
and smeared with bear blood,
somewhat
out of her body
she returned late,
her eyes spinning and flecked.
No one got it, that she was now bear.
She’s sitting right now
by the bear rock,
chanting to help the bear
cross over.
She’s got a cousin, suicide, left children,
couldn’t wait any longer to cross over, the compassion
too warm and cool to resist.  The hooks
are all around her.
She showed me a picture, the bear
in the back of the truck,
scruffy little thing,
possibly he used to be human
and was lonely for touch, she said,
but being a bear clumsily ripped a tent
and bit someone
and so he had to be sent
to the Pure Land,
like humans who used to be bears
but being human clumsily killed
whoever wasn’t bear clan.
Who is there to walk us to the land?

5/10/14