The Bear
I am hidden
From sight and mind
Under a stifling shroud
Of cobwebs
And thick layers of dust
Amongst towers of dented boxes
Overflowing with forgotten merchandise:
A squeaky rocking horse
A one-eyed doll
And an old clock that no longer
Tells the time of day.
I peer out the small attic window
In time to see him run after the bus
The contours of his face
Recognizable but different
A pointier nose and bushier brows
Yet his short straw-like hair
Is the same as always.
I wonder why he put me here
Surely it was to make me happy
Yet I am not.
I miss the downy comfort of his bed
He would read to me
Under the warm quilt after dark
Get sweet, sticky strawberry jam
In my fur
And press me to his heart
When he cried
Salty tears trickling down
Onto my blue bowtie
And black-button nose
Whispers of secrets
Entrusted only to me
Dreams we would share
Places we would see
Adventures and imagined worlds
Gliding through the air and
Fighting Captain Hook
But not anymore
Because Never Never Land
Can never be
I am in a cobwebby corner
Just a blur in the attic
Of his expanding world
Just a memory
Not forgotten
But hidden
From sight and mind
Maybe never to be found.
Katy Thompson
Block: 3
January 22, 2012
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