Life and Death

Life and Death

As fall grew near the breezes were cool,
The colors of the mountains, spectacular
Itchy the bear was gaining weight,
Always around when the seeds were great.
I often saw him solo and prancing.
Black and hungry, blackberries gone.
Blueberries, strawberries, any berry at all
The trees were there to scratch his snarl.
Standing and rubbing back and forth
Sunflower seeds in his mouth
Rolling around pouring it in
What a chum, what a chum, a son of a gun
Oh my, that was it, the sound of the gun!
That fall day, Sunday, after dinner.
The sound was exact, the moan unbearable.
Itchy had met his last day, his demise.
I could not talk about it for days.
The last moan of death may never fade away.