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'Bear': A Poem

I've had a whole bunch of poems not doing much for years and years. I polished this one up a little bit recently and thought I would share it here in case it means anything to anyone. I wrote the first version of this poem more than ten years ago when I was under the terrible spell of a horrible eating disorder. Luckily, the eating disorder has gone, but my love of poetry is still very much here!

Please take consider not reading it if this poem might affect you in a negative way.


Limbs spindly and dwindling, she could have snapped them off and made kindling,

but she didn’t of course: negation always wins.

Breath so bated, she could have snared a bear with that pounce in her mouth,

set forests ablaze with those sparks in her bones, sent owls, foxes, wolves

darting from their homes, fur, seeds, trees, burrs alight.

But bears don’t fear flames.

They only stare at blazing trees and

gaze into eyes mirrored in red streams,

recognising these keen gleams.

She thins. Thinner, thinnest, cold,

leaves rustle encircling– gold.

A howl in a locked jaw.

Conkers break apart, acorns fall.

The relationships

of parts to wholes

holds secrets:

something she

cannot know.

The bear nears.

Nearer, nearest,

here, eyes on fur,

paw on face,

breath on ear,

heartbeat on tears.

She is






Goose pimples,


A howl in

a clenched jaw.

Branches snap,

jackdaws call.

Would knowing

the relationship

of parts

to wholes


at all?

By Rosie Cappuccino (Copyright).

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