#34 Margot Bird Nelson

This morning the Bear woke alone, although the Star lay beside him. For he had yet to carve flesh from his own; having planted seed but still having to see the reaping. The egg, warm and brittle and holding life itself, was still just an egg. The den, now a nest, but not quite a home. Not as long as the egg remained an egg.

So he woke alone. Himself only in this world, beholden to none for no blood had come from his blood. As flesh begets flesh. The only true connection. One body wrought from two others. The Bear, the Star and soon the Bird. To each other indentured. A family woven right in front of me.

This morning he woke alone. Alone for the last time. It was the Bird who, long promised, had broken from her shell and now the Bear would never again wake alone.

-For GN