You’re reading a good book
when the dog barks.
You startle—
a jolt of adrenaline, then gone.
She darts to the window,
back and forth, head high,
A low growl.
A half bark.
A yawn.
She grabs a ragged toy.
You find your place.
She settles under the table.
The wind quiets.
You read,
aware of every scrape and whisper
the house allows.
