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)

You can hear me read Soft Plastic by Danielle over on Instagram @rembrandts.cure

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO