The Outdoor Library

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

left behind.

 

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,

waiting patiently

for my bouncy bounding buddy to finish

the short stories she has found

in her collection.