Market

In gray light between dawn

and day, before drudges

arrive at their towering hives,

before crowds of tourists

trudge the farmers market aisle,

flowers come to the city in trucks.

Men in aprons, women in kerchiefs,

receive buckets of dahlias,

stock, nigella, iris, lilies.

Uprooted, too, from far away,

the vendors gently gather

the shocked stems, sagely arrange

studies in color and texture,

contrast and harmony, wrap

the bouquets in white paper

carefully, as if tending to

a baby or a bride, and croon

as they set them out for sale,

“You will get used to it.

The same sun will shine, but

through a window, there.

It’s just a new place to die.”

Photo: “Flower vendor at Pike Place Market” by Jeanne Julian

Jeanne Julian’s poems have appeared in Naugatuck River Review and other journals, also winning awards in competitions sponsored by The Comstock Review, The North Carolina Poetry Society, The Lanier Library, and the Asheville Writers’ Workshop.  Editor of a photography newsletter, she is the featured photographer in moonShine review (Summer 2015).www.jeannejulian.com