I awaken to an unbearable itch.
My eyes are swollen, filled with water.
I ponder if I am sick or with fever,
and I long for a box of tissues,
as I open my blinds to greet the sun
on this glorious day of Spring.
Somehow I always forget about the evils of Spring,
and how it brings forth a constant itch.
I instead focus on the beauty of the sun,
as my eyes constantly water,
and I become a stock-holder in tissues,
all to spite– and enjoy– my Spring fever.
When did I come to possess such a fever?
It certainly wasn’t at the mention of Spring
or the fortieth trip to the supermarket for a box of tissues
or the ego-induced exchange of words over whose throat had a worse itch
or the desperate splashing of eyes with cool water
or the blistering burn caused by the sun.
It’s deceivingly beautiful, the sun.
It turns the world round, gives its inhabitants a delirious fever
that is only healed by the cool, clear water
of an April rain, or perhaps a fresh spring
surrounded by flora that gives you a natural itch
to explore nature’s beauty and cry tears of joy into your tissues.
But what makes up the layers of my flesh’s tissue–
burnt a crimson red from the Springtime sun–
sensitive to the most miniscule of nature-induced itches…
What causes my haze-filled fever?
It is the lethal season of Spring
that makes me want to hide beneath the surface of the pollen-free water.
Yet, I break free from the water,
soaring past the surface, leaving bruises on my alabaster skin’s tissue,
as I try to forget the harsh Winter in hopes of a freeing Spring.
I imagine myself dancing beneath the sun,
forgetting, just momentarily, my hay fever,
as promises of sunshine and new life mask the itches.
So, for this, I smile at the sun,
grateful for my Spring fever,
and ready for a remedy for this seasonal itch.