Bears In Pairs Poem by David Johnson

I'm alive here in this den.
This den that sounds of bears;
sleeping while the snows drift tall at the door
to show inches at the cracks of cold acheing night.
The cave is dark and dank pushing animal
odours deep into the hollows of the nose
deep into the hollows of the mind.
A handful of moon, bone white is turned on hot white
chasing shadows into the icy thickets.
The snow, if you could only see it,
splashed with diamonds like a sunned and blinding sea
The evening is ours
in this den
I feel a soft wrapping embrace of the dark
and before I leave to dream of you
I feel you in this room, in this bed,
in this night.