The silent corner reveals the makeshift booths and carts huddling
close along the distance of cobbled road.
Old wrinkled clothes practical for a theatrical costume shop and crates
of shoes which survived their use and mates.
Wire jewelry bent around buffed stones; scarves, some silken,
some hand-decorated.
Antique wooden stamps; clocks; dishes, chipped and gold-leafed;
paintings and prints.
Sweaters thick with Welsh wool.
Boxes of clementines, apples, pears, onions, carrots, potatoes, fresh
breads and biscuits; piles of cockles and fish wafting a fresh odor;
spicy curried aromas atop the doner and tikka kebabs; greasy chips;
fresh Ethiopian and Peruvian coffees.
Socialist fliers; anti-Nazi fliers; newspapers; magazines; cabaret
advertisements.
Tobacco—fresh, flavored, rolled/piped; American/Dutch.
[Check out other original poems here.]