Market
Day
Across
the square, Cross-shadowed
Among
redundant white lines
Car-cleared
and bollarded
An
encampment of trucks and white vans
Stalls
under candy-stripe awnings
Channel
raindrops into small streams
To
drip from corners into baskets and trolleys
Shouting
and calling, touting and yelling
Today’s
bargains, special offers
Everything
fresh from the farm
Cox’s
in boxes
Bananas
in bunches,
Grapes,
tomatoes and pears
Eggs,
bacon and ham
Puddings,
pies and pasties
Sauces,
pickles and jam
Milk,
cheeses and honey
Flowers,
veggies and fruit
Everything’s
there if you’ve got money
Oily,
scaly wet fish, fresh from the seas
Sharp-finned,
bright-eyed and open-mouthed
All
good at this price
Glittering,
silver darlings
Fanned
out on piles of crushed ice
Men’s
outsizes, ladies’ lingerie, hats, bras, knickers and socks
Hoover
bags, replacement parts, watches, batteries and clocks
Stall-holders
sipping extra-sweet tea
Hugging
the mugs for their warmth
Take-away
bacon rolls cooling on the side
While
change is quickly given
Keeping
up incessant banter for the punters
A
thriving cash economy
Among
the strolling bargain-hunters
Hours
later, the camp dismantled, the rubbish, the mess and the muck,
Brushes
and brooms in the rain, and work-men with the garbage-truck
The
wind whips round the deserted space
Whilst,
inside, in the pub and the café
It’s
time to watch someone else working
And
for some hot food and a drink
A
chance at last to get warm
A
space to reflect and to think
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2016
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