My dog is sniffing pee from a male dog
Left on the side of a tree on my street
Patiently I wait for for the activity to conclude
When she walks by leaving behind a trail of perfume
It doesn’t matter who she is
Though urban history tells me
The lovelier the scent, the prettier the wearer
Though some might challenge that theory in part
Wordy as this has been in my first two stanzas
Nothing pleases a man more than a wave of perfume
In the early morning of a crisp autumn day
Scented air gives this dog all the promise and wonder
of the journey ahead