greeting the day with a lovely view of my cavernous mouth.
Feeling my weight lazily thump through the kitchen making the fridge and stove shake.
And the breath of the furnace lightly brushing my fur,
unkempt
and knotted
and coarse.
I mean business when I make breakfast.
I check the empty mailbox with purpose.
I feel powerful, ESPECIALLY when I yawn.
Being a bear is pretty sweet.
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