a fish in a tank getting scared by vibration,
but it's just a dream.

he is not that person anymore;
she smiles.
she remembers what it was like to belong to him,

but she remembers so much else now;
her brain is a happy butterfly.

the sunlight through the trees pierce his mint green eyes.
snow falls around them
but she is warm.

damp grass sticks to her legs
in the warm Wisconsin spring.

he giggles at the imprint it leaves.
she smiles mischievously and finds her prey;
she throws a worm at him.

smiles and laughter warm like embers of a fire.
she remember that she used to love him.

like cats and mice she hated him,
for a long time.
he was the pesticide to her beloved spiders entangled in webs.

he lingered and she hated it.
but not anymore.

she still loves him, but as old friends love each other.
a familiar kind of feeling;
reminiscent of a happier time and better places.

like George Webber in new York;
homesick, but content.