I love trees.
However, I'm currently not fond of the ones dumping all that yellow stuff
on my head,
in my eyes.
up my nose.
A yellow mist which lines my lungs
and caresses my skin until I want to scratch it off.
And yet, due to all the tissues I'm forced to use during pollen season,
I find myself apologizing to trees.
Ah, beautiful trees.
Ones with open arms, spread out to provide shade from southern heat.
Those sharing pecans for holiday cookies while we wait for Winter to subside.
The Old Gal out front who serves as apartment complex to a variety of
song birds, woodpeckers and owls.
Those kind trees, sacrificing their lives
to become the tissue which
makes my life slightly less miserable
as trees follow the natural cycle of reproduction.
On second thought,
I'm not sure if tissue is poetic justice
or just irony.