Ice Bears

Huge, silent-moving like

white dreams hungering for

the yester-prey,

what will they do when

the ice is gone?


Will they move south, wear

brightly-coloured sports shirts,

drink Coca-Cola?


Will they sleep in

cardboard boxes, beg for

small change?


Or will they, knowing how

things end, swim on

and on and on

into the darkness

when the ice is gone?



Russell Hoban