The invisible sough?
The silent push sliding across my skin?
Freshest breaths in, like now?
Nothing is free from its bulbous, soft nudge,
It weaves into all nooks,
Awakening ev'ry nerve that you have,
In places that you've never thought to look,
Face it, the world comes running to your feet,
You see how you greet it?
On your back, do you move with it or stall,
Because you don't need it?
For all these things,
And more d'I love the breeze,
Then, when the air is still and I'm alone,
I 'magine the wind's just been asked to freeze.