Friday, July 13, 2007


by Ari Collins

Grasses underfoot, trees overhead, flowers in innocent golden hair. Seeds attach to the unwary. Thorns catch and tear. Spores float menacingly towards us, hayfever attacking our heads and lungs. Vines climb houses, try to smother, suffocate, kill. They leave trees alone to attack us, now.

If you’re not afraid of Spring, you deserve what’s coming.

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