The Ride(poem)
I feel the wind.
Rush past my ears,
into my nose.
Though my fur.
Everything moving,
so fast, so quick, so fleeting.
Intoxicating moments of time.
Often cut shorter than I would like,
The drive is done, my master and I, home.
I feel the wind.
Rush past my ears,
into my nose.
Though my fur.
Everything moving,
so fast, so quick, so fleeting.
Intoxicating moments of time.
Often cut shorter than I would like,
The drive is done, my master and I, home.