Essays
Drama
Poetry
Fiction
Non Fiction
Mixed Genre
Interviews
Ephemera
Back Issues Submissions About Us Contact Us Links
URSA FELT THIRSTY
by Dan Wahl

Ursa Sailed to the Island of Bears

Stone statues of bears stood everywhere. Some gray. Some cut off at the waist. Some highly stylized. Some carved in small relief. Some carved close to the bone.

Two amethyst bears stood on all four feet, fully carved with lots of detail. Ursa wanted to ride on one of those bears.

As Ursa began to mount ve felt a tremor near ver heart, a little sharp quiver like the vibration from the bite of a chisel.

Ursa felt verself starting to stiffen. Ve scrambled to the ground.



Ursa Watched the Dragonflies

A wife and a husband waited for ver to quit watching.

Two blue dragonflies skipped on the air. They flew in tandem. They were lovers. They were in plain sight. Then two huge gold ones flew by. Ursa pointed them out.

"What are you talking about," said the man. The woman smiled and yawned.

The gold ones were huge, like small crows, and the tips of their gossamer wings had small appendages like the feathery fingers of an eagle. The married couple felt the wind of their passage.

"It's getting breezy," the woman said.

The man said, "Maybe we should get going."

The golden dragonflies flew by again and went fast west into the setting sun. They were silhouettes, two black shadows of themselves.

"There! There!" Ursa said.

The man said, "See those two clouds? They look like dragonflies."

"What a pretty sunset," the woman said.



Ursa Went to the Famous Caves

Someone had built a hotel around them. American honeymooners liked to stay there, making love on the black satin sheets, making love under the gun rack, making love near the mouths of the caves.

Ursa sat in the corner and looked. Sweet cold air came out of the caves as if they were breathing. The cave tunnels echoed with the sound of the hunt. Some of the tunnels were lined with bricks and some were much older, carved out of rock. The gun rack held antique rifles, and the ones higher up were older. Large bore rifles that could break your shoulder with a kick. The black satin bed trembled from the love spasms of two naked Americans.

Ursa heard a weak whisper. It came from an old man, a hunter who crouched in the shadows. A bloodhound stood by, and a wolf. A big elk walked in the shadows.

"Save your," the old man said, "energy. For the hunt."

The naked man had a frustrated look. Maybe he was coming, or maybe he felt anxious about hunting. The naked woman waited, gripping satin. The elk walked up and nuzzled her cheek.

The old man creaked and stood. His trembling hand reached to the top of the gun rack, brushing away cobwebs and dust. The bloodhound got ready to bay, and the wolf got ready to tear out the bloodhound's throat.

There was moaning, but Ursa couldn't tell who, or from where.


More Poetry
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1