Laser strike

The hummingbird sounds off like some kind of pressing laser gunfight.
Crows make a beeline in the sky for garbage somewhere.
Micro mist drops place a grid of dots onto a book cover on the table.
The dog looks for cues – indications that a frisbee encounter could be starting.
A trip to the closet, a reach for socks, a carrying of shoes to the chair.
Dead giveaways.
Me and the Aussie shepherd – two collections of perception.
Looking and listening intently.
About to know the desires of the outer day.
Shall we give our best to both liked and un-preferred results and happenings?
She says yes always.
I make arguments sometimes – steering in a land that has no direction to go.
Such a smart dog.
Genius in her lack of language.
Not even knowing that a hummingbird chirp could be related, through a giant extrapolation, to a laser sound cooked up by directors of a Star Wars movie and fed back to the brain of a simile machine.
The dog knows what’s ahead – much more than the human.
And more than the supposed God.