As I climb | Friday Poetry

As I climb,
the breeze rushes gently by.
Up this steep mountain pass,
the elevation slowly climbs.
Cold and thin is the air.
I breathe deep and exhale.
My mind slips into wonder.
Now I know why I’m here.
Present is the beauty.

My eyes begin to swell.

I’m descending back into all that is real.

 

As I climb Cycling Poetry

-thebidon

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