Ursa Major

Make way
for the black bear,
for more than
this spoon of stars.
A tree limb
falls on a wire.
She became
a terrible night.
She has given up
a name.
Claw marks
breech the arc
between Earth
and her new
dark place,
with her great eyes
the new
and lasting light.

Meg Smith is a poet, journalist, dancer, and events producer living in Lowell, Mass. Her poetry and fiction have most recently appeared in Silver Blade, Star*Line, The Boston Sunday Poet, The Literary Hatchet, and more. She has recently published two poetry books, This Scarlet Dancing and Dear Deepest Ghost, both available on Amazon.

She welcomes visits at megsmithwriter.net

Find more by Meg Smith in the Author Index.

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