The Air

November 8, 2009
The air, oh the air,
I see the air, I smell the air,
It whips me in the face, as it grabs my long curly hair, and throws it in my mouth.
I smell the air, as it carries the smell of fresh cut grass, and the wonders of the woods.
I see the air, when it carries my spirit and sets it free. The air is open and free.
One minute it's calm, one minute it's rough, it's sweet, it's sour, air is life.

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