On a Tuesday

Inspiration is forced today.  I let it all out, arrived at the same place that I started.  But I moved forward, like good women do, by buying away my grief with fake flowers and stickers that said, life is a picnic, dreams are at your front door, and letters to spell out whatever I wanted to believe.  I bought a wind chime to remind myself that spring winds would soon be singing, in protest to the cold rain.  It rained all day, never stopped, even when I thought it had let up, the light revealed the same fog, drifting down, to make the ground soggy, and my doggy’s wet, all the way down to their paws.  And colds in their eyes, red and draining.  The ground gave in, in a couple spots, shadowed puddles sinking to the roots.  And the rain laid around the trees like pepper in  potato soup, just around the edges, floating.  Felt like a long day, but also quick, just as fast as raindrops fall.  I didn’t  have that rainy day, curl up with a good book, and give in to the mood kind of day.  I had that, where is the sun, why do I have to be spit on all day, I can’t get done what I want to kind of day.  If I curled up with a good book today, I’d be right behind the clouds, waiting for a downpour.