The Taste of Wind


I taste all winds—they come in flavors:
Dark and heavy winds with a taste of salt
That draw storms behind
And snap with lightning,
Shiver with thunder.
I lean into this wind and buffet back.
Clear or silver winds like sweet water
That toss petals and pull green
Out of gray wood and black soil.
I walk with this wind, wear its smile.
White hot winds with a face of dust
That drain me, pulling out sweat with the heat
And tears with the grains in my eyes.
I lie under this wind and let it
Whip over me.
Salt, sweet, and sour—
Tension, peace, and infinite unease—
These are the winds of my weather.
And as I taste I am flavored by the wind.