The Central Plaza bustles with vendors.
A small woman trails necklaces for sale from both arms
and implores me to buy from her.
Remember Ruth, she says with a smile.
I remember her.
People brown and sturdy as earth,
travelers of space and time,
owners of the maize—
red, black, and gold.
I wish I had something of Ruth’s . . .
jade at my throat or a runner for my table.
A blanket for this winter night.
Eyes like that to lift a glass to.
11 comments:
Like this very much, has me thinking of the people before us, more so than in another land.
Thanks Tony. Yes, I had that in mind as well, those before us, here and far away.
I'm happy to see a familiar face. I was playing with my template and now it seems I can't go back.
You made me feel I had something of Ruth's too!
Lovely poem.
We were just in Ensanada (briefly) over the weekend and saw lots of people with necklaces for sale from both arms and imploring us to buy from them. I don;t think any of them were Ruth though.
So touching. You paint such vivid heart-pictures - lovely.
Pet,
I'm glad! Thank you. I can still see her face.
Stephen,
Thank you. It's a beautiful place.
Jemi,
Thanks!!
a small woman trailing necklaces for sale from both arms, that's the image i love.
this was great :)
Ed,
Thank you so much. She was so sweet and sincere without being pushy. I wish I had bought something from her.
Shelli,
Thank you! I'm glad you liked it.
Wonderful poem!
I really love the line "Eyes like that to lift a glass to."
Eagle,
Thank you so much for commenting.
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