Inside
Vendors chant one
shekel! echad!
while I devour
peppers with my eyes,
all fresh greens
and reds lined up.
In Shouk HaCarmel
the food is alive,
almonds and
cashews topped
with burlap hats
sing a cappela to the figs,
while the saffron
and paprika plead,
Be mine to the Zatar.
The slush of
Hebrew and English,
the tight stalls
stuffed with metal lipsticks
drive me to need a
quick fix. I stop for a falafel
stuffed inside a
pita, smothered in baharat.
The owner of the
stand stares,
his eyes dark,
focused, as if living
inside a sacred
text. I turn to push
my way out of the
shouk, he yells,
Madame, you forget,
reaches out
to hand me a sack
of hot chips,
I turn and bow, Al
Salam, Al Salam.
Mare Leonard lives in
an old school house overlooking The Rondout Creek. Away from her own personal blackboard, she
teaches through the Institute for Writing
and Thinking and the MAT program at Bard College. She has published four
chapbooks of poetry and a new one, The
Dark Inside the Hooded Coat will be published shortly at Finishing Line Press.
www.mareleonard.com
Tags:
Poetry
Mare, I love the weave of senses you've offered us in this poem, and the title, 'Inside' is a wonderful play on the inner workings of our minds related to food, to comfort, to anonymity meeting with conversation and preconceived notions. Your wonderful layers reflect the substance I've come away with in this poem - peace and love! Crystal
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