Here Cums — The Bride Dancing Bear

It lands on her nose. She doesn’t eat it. She holds it, ever so softly, between her teeth.

Here cums the bride—all five hundred pounds of grief and grace. The music stops. She bows, snout to the dirt. The groom removes his hat. A child throws a single rose. here cums the bride dancing bear

She is not trained. She is widowed. Three summers ago, her real mate was shot for stealing honey from the magistrate’s kitchen. Now, she dances for stale bread and the echo of a lullaby. Each step is a memory. Each grunt, a whispered hymn. It lands on her nose