When the oak pollen falls, when the air hazes gold,
when black hens show sparkles of blond,
when windshield wipers are needed to see
through the film dropped by the frond,
when you pray for rain to clear the air
and wash the pavement clean,
when the temps are perfect for windows and breezes,
go inside and turn on the AC.
Good grief, it wouldn’t be NaPoWriMo without a pollen poem. Seriously high pollen count right now…
My car has a yellow sheen of pollen
requiring the use of windshield wipers
or the brush on the back of the ice scraper
to drive safely.
We’re only on Day 2.
Eventually the pollen will drift like snow,
and when the savior rain comes it will
carry the offending grains down the driveway or
into the gutter, swirling like all the stars in the Milky Way.
Until then, let the suffering begin.
Pollen on the windshield – You can see where I used the wipers–and that the pollen has start accumulating again…
Using a combination of prompts: “rain” from Adele Kenney and “suffering” from Robert Lee Brewer. Come to think of it “un-love” from NaPoWriMo applies too…I SO un-love spring allergies…