Poem On: Day 23

Teddiursa (#216)

Generations ago, you let one tame you.
They made you a carnival prize,
soft plush to tempt believers
to batter or shy or knock back bottles:
easy as that, win one
for your girl. The oldest thieves’
cant. You escaped with the grift
and a taste for honey. Fury, too
you learned on the midway,
but only for last. Patient as a butterfly
knife you are. Patient as a new moon.