Luke Waking: First Birthday

There is bear in his blood
this April morning
when he wakes
after his first winter
and its sleep.

He lumbers to
the crib side,
rising up
to sniff the dawn.
He paws the honeyed light
longing to feed
the new hunger
that gnaws at him.

I lift him,
hold him now
while he is young.
He cuffs me playfully.
I know this rascal
is filled with magic
and with columbine.

from "Bone Cages"

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SNAKE KILLER

It is not the two
small ones I chased with the lawnmower
and shredded
into pieces
and blew out
the chute.

Not even the three
found at various times
on the patio,
one dragged out
of the stone wall
with a rake,
all cut through
with the hoe
and dumped over
the fence
and never seen again.

It was the larger
of the two
I found coiled
on the compost heap,
I think,
the one that I hit
with the shovel,
the one that writhed
as I swung and swung
while the other
shot off into
a chaos of
grasses. ...
I could never find
the carcass
or a skeleton.

Now, all around the garden
1 am followed
by whispers.
They all know my name.

Jim Beschta

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