From green grass to road, she softly strides,
Her paws now treading where asphalt divides.
She stops, looks away, her gaze afar,
Not to the road, but to some distant star.
The hum of traffic, a low, distant sound,
Her world is quiet, though it spins around.
A flicker of thought, a pause in her way,
As if the road holds no sway today.
She turns her head, not drawn by the street,
The grass in her memory, soft beneath her feet.
Her eyes, like shadows, are lost in the sky,
Not in the rush that passes her by.
From green grass to road, yet she seeks,
A place beyond what the world speaks.