Missouri Welcome

Gone a week,
oak and hickory leaves
just budding when we left.
Green trees when we return,
with oak catkins taunting me,
their flowers already
sending pollen into the air,
itching eyes and sniffles
reminding me I’m home.

I moved to Missouri, bought a house with a dozen oak trees within 20 to 100 feet of the house, only to learn I’m allergic to oak.

Photo: one of the many white oaks near my house
          (click for larger view in new tab)

This poem is off prompt for Week 19 of National/Global poetry Writing Month at napowrimo.net.