At the Farmer’s Market, a poem

farmer's market 50

at the Farmer’s Market
she has to be
in her nineties,
a knapsack laden
with fruit,
in those hands –
two cherry tartlets,
her eyes roaming,
roaming, her red
scarf aflutter
with birds




as it steals us away

wave 50 Clark Little

a stream crashes on a beach,
a cloud curls into a wave,
the sky is not yet saltwater,

but he sets his boat to sail
upon it…how simple the
luscious as it steals us away


Photo: Clark Little photographer