What Is Loved
One of the feelings that I love most, is feeling the sand between my toes.
One of the smells that is precious to me, is the smell of the salt and the sand and
the sea.
Oh how I love feeling the wind, and the sound of waves crashing against the sand.
I close my eyes and still me inside, and just become one with these things.
I yearn most for a heavy forest, with towering tree's and gurgling streams.
I want nothing more than to run with the deer, be friends with the wolf, away from
people, no such thing as cities.
I close my eyes and I am there.
I love nothing more than to tromp through a slough, waist high in mud, and being
warmed by the sun.
To see foxes and and birds and snakes and bugs, those sights and those smells are
things that I love.
Be it ocean, or forest, or slough, those things mean nothing if it means loosing you.
So I stay in this city, a tainted caged place. You're what I love most, and where you
are is my perfect place.
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