Mocco Wollert: ‘Grizzly’

Grizzly

The exhibition case cannot contain the viciousness, oozing danger.
Deep in the eyes of glass, the menace of unbridled wildness
still threatens, releases instant “flee or fight” reaction, leaving me
sweating, freezing, thrown into primeval fear, feeling like prey.

I stay and stare, trying to immerse myself into his soul,
his instincts, his power. Displayed rearing to his full height,
I imagine him smashing the glass prison with one swipe of his paw.

It is an indignity to cage such dead beasts in four walls of glass,
his terrible stare still seems alive deep in his fake eyes; any moment
he will move, roar, rip my heart out, devour my fear-seasoned flesh.

“Oh Mum, look at that Grizzly” a child’s voice fills the hotel foyer,
as he dances and pulls faces at the animal, exhibited without pity.
I want to believe that the hunter who killed the magnificent creature
had respect in his soul, bowed to him in deference and awe.

With heavy heart I look in despair at the glass-case next to him;
whiteness fills this prison, where the king of polar caps stands
in aloof dignity, reflecting the northern lights in his dead eyes.

Mocco Wollert