The Stick Libary
By Kelly Clasen WC: 150
Hound sniffs and wiggles.
Wags and snuffles.
Decisions, decisions.
Which stick will he pick?
Smooth driftwood smells like the ocean.
The birch branch gleams white and fresh.
But the oak limb—it’s just the right size.
Slurp.
It tastes like springtime.
And adventure!
Hound’s teeth clamp down.
“Let’s go, boy!”
It’s off to the beach!
Chasing,
racing,
Hound romps with his stick.
He flips it,
flings it,
up-in-the-air zings it!
Uh-oh.
Here comes Terrier.
With the zoomies.
And a trade?
Hound tests her tennis ball
with its slobber-slick fuzz.
Ick.
It’s no stick.
Stick safely retrieved,
Hound rolls
in sun-soaked sand.
Ahhh.
He rests,
heart pounding,
tongue lolling.
For a moment,
it’s just waves rolling,
gulls calling.
And dog.
And stick.
And sea.
Tweeeee!
A whistle breaks his reverie.
“Time to go, boy!”
Hound pounces and chomps,
dashes and romps,
once more
before returning his prize
to the stick library.
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