Bear circles my camp in last dark,
before Raven’s first grumble.
It hums hunger under its breath,
from deep in its rib-cave.
Its head sways, tentative.
Intent, its belly.
known as, Love That Wants Food…
often, with its belly full,
it warms me so,
and with its hunger, makes music.
See how—and why—
I feed it?