Sounds Rhinitis

Dust.  
Fever, listen. The grasses chirp.  
Dust lit the ground.  
My ear fell too.  
 
Why does the dogwood fizzle in fog-beat bone?  
Trickle up the chest.
 
I wish  
I hadn't smelled the red ones.  
The green leaves didn't snag to your nose.  
The birds can still ring,  
(hear from the highlands further south Florida's gun stun the itchy kneepit)  
when your eyes droop monotone  
because your groggy throat has swollen bigger than your head.  
Dust climbs higher in the moss.  
Better we'd hide out the new breeze for now.