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.