Pollen

It is a huge pollen year, more than enough for all of us. Everyone I know... with allergies and without... seems to be afflicted. 

I wake up sneezing.

Pollen has been

The underlying thread

In this summer weaving

Of the whole;

The common denominator

In our body politic;

The unitive breathing in

Of that substance

Which would be better off

Doing the work

It is meant to do:

Flower to fruit

To food on the table,

Except now

We wake up sneezing,

More than enough pollen

For all purposes,

Even enough

To provide food

For conversation.