Bear-Carrying

I remember her coming down the stairs
in her blue dress holding a little bear
in her arms as if parting from its softness
would somehow bring upon her
all the cares of the big world
which she sees me carry upon my shoulders
as I prepare a breakfast of a bowl of cereal
for the both of us.

Perhaps I should take up bear-carrying
in the morning and lose the frightened look
I hold upon myself as if the world is out to get me.