Great Bear Day by Jenny Melmoth

The Bear swings in at seven tonnes,
A little late, but heck,
when you are 470 million years old
what’s an hour here or there?

He hovers in his slow trapeze,
clears the trembling hedge, and
nose uplifted
chooses his position;
precisely where he’ll stay.

Majestic, he allows his carers
to grunt round him,
releasing his protective harness,
risking themselves
in service of his freedom.

Thoughtfully he scents the air
deciding
this will do.