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With the Polar Bears
About to become extinct,
My hand hurts,
I go to the beach-
Far north of here,
In lieu of the heron and pelicans I watch,
My brethren are about to hurt
More than I:
They are about to go away,
Lost forever in the cold waters,
Into the tides where
Even today
I stand and shed my tears,
Filling up that much more
Of the sea.
Those bears are just like me:
All they want is unchanging
Everything, a niche,
A barter,
And a steady course
Away from evil hands,
Hurt hands;
It puts them at the mercy
Of fools
And uprooted seasons.
poem
by
Stan Petrovich
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