Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
The air that drifts in through my window
Has come as the wind from afar for me to breathe;
Past mountain tops and river valleys;
From the mouth of my beloved.
It has rustled the leaves of trees along the way
And has skimmed the crests of waves in vast oceans.
We breathe the world with every breath.
© 2004
Scott Hunter
Written by
Scott Hunter  M/UK
Please log in to view and add comments on poems