Sierra Blanca


The air up here is clear and crisp
The run is firm and dry.
My mountain stretches lazily
It's pine 'arms' toward the sky.

I breathe the awesome scenery in,
I hold within my heart.
The memory of the view of this
In case we ever part.

The world up here is not the same
As the crowded towns below,
And often when my way seems hard
In fancy, there I go.

Shoving off upon the trail
Along the run I glide.
With many friends to ski with me...
Free spirits by my side.

This is the place where I belong
My soul shall never roam.
For here it is that I would stay...
My Sierra Blanca home.

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