The Nose

Madeline asked me to post her poem.  She mentioned I inspired this some how. I don't see it, but whatever...

The Nose

That Big, Black nose, in my face,

Doesn't know the words, personal space.

That Big, Black nose, waving in the air,

Sniffing things, getting whiffs of things, everywhere.

That Big, Black nose, skimming across the mat,

Sniffing this and sniffing that.

That Big, Black nose, that Big, Black nose,

It can't be stopped, I suppose.

by Madeline H. Crump

2.28.11