in the air.
A cloud of smoke
sitting as a bloke
in a wingback chair.

Hear me
in a breeze.
Waving branches
large as ranches
whipping through the trees.

Touch me
in the rain.
Bubbling drops
of brewing hops
dripping through the pain.

Taste me
in the snow.
Powdered sugar
in a pressure cooker
puff as pastry dough.

Smell me
in the sun.
A rose garden
if you pardon
refreshes everyone.