Faded brick streets, Iron-colored pathway Leading us downtown Lilac shirt, **** black raspberries, Bursts of sweet, floral blueberries on my tongue Old ladies in long dresses with baskets full of vegetables Saturday morning Honey in espresso Bluegrass in the blue grass 16, 17, 18 windows Waving at little ones while fathers' backs are turned Sweet little braids and pink bows Brown, but golden in the sun Busy streets on market mornings Moss-covered picnic tables Giggling under shaded hide-aways Breathe in the present Sunshine shimmering through Maple trees Beads of sweat; rolling down water bottles and my forehead Glass, pottery, and macrame Herbs, microgreenery, and fruit My mouth waters with thoughts of sautees and soups Robins chirp over the bustling morning crowd The scent of fresh baked sourdough carried by the breeze Young, hip parents intermingling with kind, old farmers All of us captivated with the now
sitting in a park across from saturday morning farmers market <3 cluster **** ;,)