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- by Linn Barnes

-Linn Barnes

Today, toward dusk, a bear approached me
and announced that he was a griz,

which I took issue with, knowing 
full well that we only have black bears

in these parts, but he was not thwarted, 
and threatened to do the griz thing on me

if I didn’t re-consider my original observation,
to wit I replied, I would run him through

with my sword, a medieval relic I sometimes
carry about on the land we own and

carefully care for, which brings me into 
a primal understanding of what and

where I am, and, surprise of surprises,
the foolish, fraud griz turned tail

and slunk off into the evening light,
clearing the Spring evening glow

of the stench of lies and fraud,
dumped untowardly in my path, 

and the light shown soft and green
before my happy eyes grinning softly,

as I sheathed the silver blade.