I take my dog to the outdoor library
when we go walking.
That’s what it seems.
It occurs to me
when I am waiting for the umpteenth time
for my cute canine companion to finish sniffing
a tree or a bush or a building
that she is reading tales,
the stories which other animals
My furry four-legged friend is accessing a language
foreign to me, with my inferior olfactory abilities.
And so I allow her to
browse at leisure in her outdoor library,
the way I like to
browse at my public institution.
The difference between the two is that
mine is filled with
books of print and image,
whereas hers is filled with
scents in the ether.
And I enjoy the sun on my face as I
admire her beauty and grace,
for my bouncy bounding buddy to finish
the short stories she has found
in her collection.