The White Bear

Everything in the box on your doorstep
and all the small things swollen with words in the envelope,
the pictures pulled from my wall and
your toothbrush thrown away;
it’s all cleared from my sight
except for the damn bear and his stupid stuffed soul
sitting next to Rallie and Muttsee on my pillow.
I come home and see the bear,
you sit down for a chat at the library,
that couple we set up falls apart,
I get pix messages of your look-a-like spotted on campus,
David attempts to take me home,
there’s an A&E special on Tallulah Bankhead,
I date a skinny boy who wants to be an accountant,
he switches to finance then breaks up with me,
I put on my dress from our first date,
a 64 tag rolls past on the interstate,
the new guy did another sweet thing that reminds me of you—
it must be the third time this week,
while looking for an old memento, I find
the letters, the cards, the pictures and
there sits the bear—
always sad and always scared, and
I can’t help but feel a relief settle in
as he slowly loses his soul.