My hands are red from the cold. After staring at the pictures from the day after rain and drawing my eyes over them, I drafted a poem that I’d like to mix into the image.
The text without punctuation in spacing, if you dare:
I notice the park across the street from work after the rain because the grass glows green and the sun makes the lake sparkle I have a shift off to look up and walk over to see if the park air is warmer in its bright sidewalk winds behind the library The grass floods only in certain areas, should we make a well there? Is there concrete beneath the grass? Has the neighborhood council added green food coloring to the roots. It’s in the budget. There’s a boat in the water that no one could fit on, especially since there’s no wading or swimming in the lake, according to the official looking sign. I choose my steps carefully around puddles, there are dashed lines on the ground, lanes even when walking those bicycles have hooded people on top of them, shoes moving in circles someone designed this space and it’s lovely and I’m glad I found it, and I hope the future has more public spaces and parks and spaces to appreciate nature
Toward the end I get more expository and less poetic with my intentions for the poem
Here’s my thought board for it now:
I’m interested in playing around with less conventionally shaped gutter splits, more organic, although I like the friendly, clear rectangles I’ve used here.
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