Dull Wishes

The mall fountain,

stagnant now,

the pump long broken.

Just a murky pool

where the light barely reaches.

And down there,

a hundred thousand wishes,

or more.

Pennies, mostly,

dulled to a green-black sheen.

Nickels, dimes,

a quarter or two,

all lying still,

under the oily film.

Some cheap plastic toys,

a few forgotten soda tabs.

No one ever comes

to scoop them out,

to count the heavy currency

of forgotten hope.

Just sit there,

waiting for a miracle

that won't come.