Ursa

Last night’s brussel sprouts
Filled me with gases
Then I became a hot air balloon
Rising up through dusty webs toward stars
Who blinked at my sudden appearance.

At first I drifted
Gripped by astonishment holding my hair in a too tight embrace
Until euphoria settled in;
I plucked stars with my bare hands by the dozens
Wore one in my nose, hung others in drupes from ear lobes.

I pulled the ropes and rose
Higher into a creamy smile rippling across spilled ink
Where I dared to pause and reach for one
Bring it to my waiting lips
Contemplating its taste until it growled.

“Remember what happened to Coyote,”
A grizzly voice admonished,
Startled I let go of the star;
As I crashed down hurtling toward earth
The rest flew back into the sky.

I landed on my feet
Blinking at the passage of a bear
Lumbering toward trees
From the garden where
He’d been filling up on sprouts.

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