I sensed it.
It was in the air.

The winds came.
Heat arrived.
I knew it was time.

It’s funny to think that this time of year can always lead me to thoughts of laying seed, but it does. Contrary to my thoughts or intents, I come to this point every year.

I guess you can call me a slave to nature, and that may be right, but that fact remains the same. It was time and I was ready.

My processes fired and my systems were primed. I set to work to satisfy this need, this desire, this compulsion. My body was turned toward one goal and and all expectations were met.

I feel secure enough to say that I answered the call quite nicely.

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As my seeds fluttered to the ground in helicopter fashion, I bid them best wishes. I wish I understood the drawbacks of pavement.

Potential children – drawn to their graves on the bristles of a broom.

They will never spread leafy boughs to the sun.
They will never sway in the breezes of this time of year.

They will never hear the call.
They will never do nature’s bidding.