THE SMILE
Little old lady smiles faintly at me,
her dog placid and still at her foot.
I pat Cookie’s head as he licks his paw,
nibbles at the grass seed under his skin.
As the vet inspects my dog I explore,
tap the glass of the bearded dragon’s cave
and grin at the floppy ears of rabbits.
Little old lady passes me, her dog
no longer at her foot, face buried in hands,
and that dead smile comes back to mind.
