Shiro and her friends

somewhere a dog sleeps

on a bed too big for her little body

and the window, oh the window, is open

just enough

for wind to wander in like it has nowhere else to be

her fur whispers to it, lawn grasses,

tiny nose twitching at smells

we cannot smell (and would not if we could)

dreaming rain smells and food smells, no,

not rain and food, the word

spoken soft like a secret

like a miracle

like something impossible to hold

but you try anyway

and she dreams,

oh she dreams

in smells that have no names

and maybe that is enough