Watching our poodle
with his white shaggy
sheepswool coat
no fancy cut for him
finding the perfect spot to land
on our blood-red turkish carpet

He takes his time
circling around once
then twice before he's finally
ready to settle down
what is this circling
I ask myself
do his wild cousins
his wolf ancestors
do the same?

Dropping down soundlessly
graceful for all his advanced years
he curls into a ball and is asleep
in what seems no time at all
what I wouldn't give
for that grace
that trust
that innocence