i was gone all day, and my feet hurt.

i folded tee shirts, was confused with socks,

tried to be good, got it all wrong.

what did you do, bear.

‘i stayed here all day, i don’t want the money’

sbm.

he was still laying down and mumbling.

‘why have you not shared that one

about belief ?’

i think i forgot.

‘did anyone read it?’

i don’t know.

the bear slipped back to sleep

holding the rags.

sbm.

you know how you can hear me,

when i am thinking. ‘yes that is because

i came from the forest, it is quiet there,

we can hear everything’

yes.

‘where have you been all day?’

here and there and felt the air

on my cheeks.

‘ so i hope the blanket of sadness

is lifting?’

yes. thank you bear.

sbm.

it is a long time since the sun shone in long and low

like that, says the bear.

does this mean it is spring now? it is such a pretty

room.

yellow.

sbm.

‘isn’t the sun warm?’ said the bear, ‘and look i speak in italics’

yes, it makes me feel better.

‘which the warmth or the format?’

sbm

so the bear looks at me and says,

‘ you mean it were the settings that was wrong ‘

yes.

‘so it was all your imagination?’

yes.

‘i feel a bit better now’

sbm.

the bear looked puzzled, sat back and said,

‘told you, no one will listen if we are quiet,

they have all lost interest’

yes.

‘do they only listen to loud folk , those that shout

and remonstrate’

seems so.

‘do you mind’ said that bear sympathetically.

no.

sbm.

the bear looked up and asked

have you written any thing today?

no, not much.

so then , no one will know

what has happened

today.

no.

sbm..

if you stop writing

about me , will i

disappear?

will we be so quiet

no one will notice us,

any more?

the bear considered, thought

it may be nice.

sbm.

it is a new little ribbon,

for you. i will tie here,

yet not too tight.

it has been a long time now.

yes, said the bear.

a long, long time.

sbm.