Four writers for the price of one blog
There once was a man of air,
whose memory was the rain;
he remembered a girl,
but could never be certain about her tears.
Her scent within him,
he went in search.
On clear days, he relied on the whiff of salt.
In the deluge he recalled her face.
Air and mud – sky and earth –
the longest search only to discover
they were always touching,
immiscible save in the storm.