At the Fruit Stand

by Christy Lumm <Submit your comments to the author>

Beneath the midday heat
Within the darkened shed
The fruit monger and I
Fill my plastic bags,
A kilo of this,
A kilo of that,

When the radio
Breaks into a rollicking
Country folk dance.
He starts it, clapping,
Arms raised high,
Fingers snapping,
But I join in,
And so we dance together
Around the citrus
While the music throbs
Joy and power --

Until the corner cashier
Snaps, "Sa'ad!"
Youth and the party vanish;
He resumes stacking cabbages;
I fill my bags and leave.

For a moment, though,
The heat gives way
And all the fruit inside glows,
Ornaments bright as the
Noonday sun above.

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