Our dog Gwenny sits
perfectly still
flicking her ears back and forth,
as though thinking.

I could be wrong,
but I don’t think
she knows she’s a dog.

My mind is a monkey,
swinging from tree to tree
grabbing whatever it thinks
it needs to know —hungrily,

which is why I probably know
more than I need to know
to be me,

while our dog Gwenny
knows just what she needs to know
to be she.

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