A couple of hours

Have passed in a room

Where I sit with a dog

While the afternoon looms,

When he stirs from his comfort

And approaches my chair

Whereupon his vast muzzle,

All gray colored hair,

Is pressed to my hands

As he stares at my eyes

And requests some attention

Before he'll pass by.

I answer his calling,

Start stroking his face,

With his eyes locked on mine

As he sits in his place.

Satisfied with the contact,

He resumes his tough day -

Stretched out on a sofa

And napping away.

While I'm left to wonder

What possesses a dog

To seek out such moments

Of quiet dialogue.