MARKET DAY

Your pockets are full, but did you get enough?

Be quick —

a woman slurs —

and slowly steps off the curved pavement.

Flowers slowly growing in grouped bunches

Branches swaying overhead . . . Scared maybe?

Scared of what, the wind?

The sly, sharp-moving wind?

Who knows what it carries

but good or bad, it’s moving.

Be careful —

a mother’s mouth cries —

her hand quickly clutching the open-palmed, fat fingers of her toddler,

as he or she

(who knows, does it matter at all?)

slowly stumbles into pace with her steps,

her arms full and laden heavy with fruits and grains,

butter, fresh milk and precious dozens of eggs.

Yes, yellow-yolked eggs

used as the heart in hollowed, toasted breads,

beloved “eggy-baskets” that, when eaten, fill a mouth and hungry tummy.

Eggs and whites —

the glue bonding sugar and flour into a small birthday cake

for the old widower on the corner,

all forgotten except by his dog and postman

and maybe this mother shuffling by.

It’s chaos inside,

so many coughs and sneezes,

children, babies all having fits over no-naps,

so much food around but none to be eaten now!

He swallows the rock in his throat and fingers his billfold,

uncertain of the cash or coin in his pocket.

What to even do now?

Go in and plan ahead for a week with days and minds of their own?

Or say,

just starve it out and let primal instinct sniff out an edible creation,

a careful lick or two

towards what will certainly be good and satisfying.

All leaned up and watching folks scurrying by,

polite and well-mannered.

What to do now?

He jokes.

Not a wink or a thought about it,

while the watch hands ticks on madly.