Ding rings the bell, as floor five marks my quest,
Alone in this box, absence of thought, feeling blessed.
No hurried suits, no grumpy teens,
Just silence, steel, and sipping at my coffee beans.

But then a shift, a shadow near,
A furry form, of eliminating fear.
A corgi king, with ears erect,
His gaze unflinching, what are his plans, a new suspect.

“Like a well-behaved carpet,” I mused,
His fur so smooth, my hand cruised.
A tail, a thump, a happy sigh,
Melting my resolve, a tear in my eye.

“Excuse me, sir,” I bent to the floor,
“Off to floor four?”
He tilted his head, a thoughtful pause,
Then licked my nose, with wet, pink applause.

So up we went, a mismatched pair,
My briefcase held aloft by his fluffy stare.
His grin infectious, a joyful bark,
A lift encounter, leaving its mark.