Farmers Market

I stroll the stalls
watch fellow wanderers
browse the bounty
voluptuous veggies

Socially conscious shoppers socialize
with passionate purveyors of handcrafted wares
Cheese and soap, cookies and sausage

I sit with a stranger
Samosa and small talk
of gray hair, summer and guitarists
We soak up the vibe
fragments of folk songs
Mr Bojangles transports me to childhood
I bathe in the notes
and just breathe
as I go Slip-slidin’ Away

When the moment passes we cordially part
purchases heavy, heart light
My coffee may be gone
but my cup is filled