It starts at evening, the silent weave of scent
billowing through the door, seeping in the carpet,
A questioning glance, a sudden unrest,
and the dog sulking unusually in the corner....
It's deep in the night, when the footfalls seeking water
take a darker, warmer step:
A clandestine pile from the dog,
an odor brimming from the log,
a startled shriek through the midnight fog.