Small stone 1-12-12

On a piney path
sun sprinkling through the trees
two dogs on long leashes
and their walker approach
in one blink
the black dog and I take the measure of each other
he’s the kind that bites
his floppy ears laid back
yellow-brown eyes meet mine
a look that says I don’t know what
a friendly hello can I smell you
or your hand looks tasty
should I be afraid
I suck in a breath
as the nose lurches to meet my finger
ask the woman how are you
pretty good she says
the cold snout brushes my skin
and is gone

Leave a Reply