Bipolar Bear

Jane Holiday

Monday

I lean my long neck
Over the side
Of the bath.
Tears plop
Into the snow-bitten sea.
Furry feet
Beat the wall,
My strong white throat
Ascream with grief.
How do I commit suicide
In the Arctic?

Tuesday

Today, outrunning the reindeer
I thwack and devour my prey,
Bang buckets, slam doors,
Break glasses on the floor.
‘Help me,’ the bear begs.
‘I can’t help myself.
I am trapped.
Rescue me from the ice.
Rescue me from the light.
Rescue me.’

Wednesday

I bound out of sleep
And thump gaily up and down the house
Bellowing and hallooing with elation.
I savour the pleasure
Of being a bright and bonny bear
Amid the polar ice.
I swim from the front door along the passage
To the bathroom door and back again.
I’m giddy with glee and manic mirth.

Tomorrow, who knows
What will happen?
I may be sunk again
Into a polar pit of pain.
Or perhaps
I’ll be a nice normal bear
Quietly eating fish
And surveying the seascape.