Her

She is calm,
Holding her gaze at the grass,
She smiles,
While moist buds scratch her paws,

She looks back,
A time perhaps she recalls,
Open arms, She breathes,
A familiar scent as it falls,

She is close,
She is vivid,
A little bit further,
Yes, she is there,

Those wet palms,
Tiny drops sliding under,
Behind this silvery curtain,
It must be her,
It has to be her.