Fountain in a mall

Spring always makes things possible like this. The old grass is yellow and the trees are muted dark green. Then there all the shades of brown and the moody grey blue of the ocean. The grey of bare branches. Everything muted to the same tone. But the possibilities are under all that, invisible. It's a time for using your imagination.

I want the clarity of spring, I want the strength of spring, I want the clear form of spring. But I should remember its muddiness and maybe want muddiness too. The haziness of grey days, the fog and blurred lines of rainy days. The clarity is often hiding; green points, which are quite hard and strong, waiting just below the surface.

I saw some men cleaning out the fountain at Park Lane mall a couple of weeks ago. They had drained all the water away and were picking up all of the coins people had thrown into it. All those wishes people had made, and their coins being collected. I thought of it today on my way to work.

How can I counter that? Can I insert something unexpected here? Can I change this into a letter? What was your day like? I ate chocolate, I worked, I drove the car, I observed the colours outside, I put lip balm on my lips. I received a seed catalogue in the mail. I washed my hands. I made notes. I remembered when Amy used to call me Jasil Berry Finn. I enjoyed writing with a pen on paper. I remembered that I have to pay the rent and do my taxes. I thought about stories and how to tell them. I felt words streaming behind my eyes and felt awake and...was it sad or hopeful?

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all "

Emily Dickinson