The older I get
the more I long to be
carried by the wind--
free from the past,
empty of regret,
willowy and white
like a feather,
like the lean in
for a first kiss
The older I get
the more I long to be
carried by the wind--
free from the past,
empty of regret,
willowy and white
like a feather,
like the lean in
for a first kiss