Bear

See that house
with the long driveway
two doors down?
They’ve got something like
a bear
in there.

His captors, about whom
we know little, seem
not to listen to him
and want to keep him hidden.
I’ve never seen him myself,
but it’s obvious that he’s there:
you can hear
the bear soliloquy
at all hours, a Hamlet
bear mourning and raging
at his current impotence,
demanding answers
from his parentage
regarding his current state.

One of these days
that beast is going to get out
and come looking for
vengeance on everyone
who knew about him
and kept quiet.  All these quiet homes
are going to be destroyed,
I’ve got money on it
and I’ll tell you: we’ll almost
deserve it.  Almost
because who were we
to question what was being done
in the name of our security
and safety?  It would have stirred
too much if we’d challenged
the rationale for keeping such a force
so trapped and caged.

Besides,
the property values would have gone down.
Who’d want to live in a place
where such angry and deprived souls
could run free and claim what’s theirs,
even if that’s
all they want?
If they could have been that way
from the start, maybe I’d feel different,
but now it almost seems
too late for that.  Best, I guess,
to stay armed and just
listen to them, alert
for the sound
of escape.