Larry's Produce
The market rings with laughter.
In Spanish and German,
Russian and a dozen other tongues
weary children cry
in the mid-morning sun
as old eyes, wise hands
prod peach and mango
mounded peas and beans
looking for any flaw.
Finding none,
they fill their bags
with the fragrant gifts
of this milk-
and-honeyed
land.
poem by Steven Federle
Added by Poetry Lover
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