That park enclosed in resin.
Soap bubbles and sludge in the lungs. Sepia air
around enclosures, memory, moon bear, dancing bear.
Rocks and cage. "Mischa," the children call. - Did
someone say "Petz"? "Teddy"? - Bears are plantigrades,
like us.

Good works of the bears. Small children
led by the hoods of their coats. Ladies with parasols
exploring their shadow existences. Paths full of pine cones and spiders,
winged seeds. Amber, bijou indiscret, meaning:
telling people more truth than they can bear.
We are inclusions.

The iconostasis opens, three bears
appear. Blind compression. Mica grounding. We are surrounded
by amber trees and amber houses, footballs, owls.
While black bears draw spears of light into the park,
white, darkness varnished into bone,
light.

Translation Catherine Hales