In the little village
a lady of mature years
walking with a tote
heavily filled,
but sticking up
the indespensable
a baguette.
A man walking a dog
with a stick
saying to the lady,
"Bonjour madame".
Living in the same
village for more than
30 years -
they still vousvoyez.
Thrice weekly market
is on today -
all the vendors are here,
the man with the horse meat
the egg man with fresh eggs
the eternal bag vendor
various and sundries
clothes offerings -
some practical - some not so
all in front of the town hall
a square where people gather
for about 2 thousand years
except this village is not quite
as old in view but in spirit.
Yet the time of the ages
flows along and generation
upon generation runs through
the veins and the alley ways.
There have been folks
for ... ages and we are all
part of the meat chain.
1 comment:
Oh surely not the meat--
I'd rather be the eggs!
For women have the pow'r
For which the Life Force begs:
Without the eggs we bear,
The "meat" would disappear.
We are the guarantee
That yet for many a year,
Your little town will still
Be home to many lives,
The wine, the meat, the bread,
The chickens and the chives,
Will still on market day
In baskets and on bikes,
Be carried homeward way,
The swallows will swoop down,
And mesdames et messieurs
Politely smile and bow,
And say their sweet "Bon Jour"'s.
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