When April Comes … ACHOO!

An army of flowers is invading my nostrils.
ACHOO!
It starts with a tingle, the first pollen flying through newly open windows.
Mom says she’s letting in the fresh breeze, but I think she may be working for them.
A spy in my own ranks.
ACHOO!
The first soldiers march in March, scouting for sunny days.
When April comes, my eyes itch and my nose runs, hiding in fear from what comes next.
By May, it is a full war waged in petals, pistons, and stamen.
ACHOO!
Bees join forces with the flowers, the wind is blowing against me.
I am under attack.
ACHOO!
But I have reinforcements, too.
Each morning I take my medicine and strengthen my defenses.
No more itchy ears that fill with fluid.
No more crusty eyes that will not open.
The hazy battlefield clears.
A beautiful garden grows, like a monument to our struggle.