(in the Yiddish of my Berman grandparents, the name spells Bearman)

This bear man
that he knows himself to be
is often a bit slow
a bit clumsy
but quick when speed is needed
greedy omnivore
he's fond of sweets
berries, birds eggs and ready
to brave the bees
where honey is in store
posing as a family man
in truth more loner
than he admits to
he'll retreat into his lair
of private thoughts
one minute to the next but happiest
when he can scratch his back
against the bark
of an old cedar tree
a patient fisherman he's not content
with standing on the bank
he'd rather wade
into the shallows
feel the current
rush between his legs
wait for the moment
when a fat salmon
swimming within reach
asks to be flipped
into his mouth or up
onto the shore
the summers are his time
for foraging
and fall with it's rich stock
of chinquapin
acorns and hazelnuts
come winter he'll be looking for a hole
to crawl inside
cozy until the warmth
of spring invades
and wakes him from his dream