Pollen Count by Danielle Marie Cahill

Pollen Count

Danielle Marie Cahill

This poem first appeared in The Quarter(ly).

My computer tells me the weather
There is a high pollen count today
As if that matters deeply to someone
Imprisoned in a glass tower
At night, my daughter asks if I saw the rain
She mimics the pattering noise with her
Fingers over the mound of the duvet
I pretend I did.
The she reminds me how in February
We stuck out our tongues to feel snowflakes
Falling–so gentle and so cold
We both catch imaginary wisps for a while
I tell her that I love the rain
Tomorrow, I must go outside to feel the drops
On my face–not learn about it far too late
In the left-hand corner of my shining screen

More from Danielle Cahill ↓

* @daniellecahillwriter on Instagram

* This poem is published in The Quarter(ly)

Submissions are open. If you have a poem you want me to read on the podcast, now’s the time.

I’m looking for the one that lights you up. The one you’re proud of. The one you can’t read without crying. The one that makes you feel something big.

Let’s make space for the one this Fall on One Poem Only.

Deadline is Thursday, July 31.

🍎 Submit Here 🍎