The market breathes life with gladiolas, sunflowers,
carnations, as baby’s breath embraces every row.
Nestled close, three woman chat and laugh,
fingers busy at needlepoint, sewing rainbow colours deep into the cloth. Tarps and makeshift frames amaze in vibrant artisanal wares.
My bus ascends the highway, lined with untrimmed fields,
wildflowers of goldenrod, violet and white, swaying lazy in the sun.
Cornfields harvested, piles stacked in teepees, goats and sheep
grazing morning grass. In soft repose an effigy, carved upon an aged elm, whispers reassurances of memories by this road.
watch over our roses
as your robes unfurl
Process notes: This is a scene on my way to work a couple of times a week (it’s two hours one way). Completely different from what I see on a normal day, and it never ceases to amaze me. Tuesday at a stop I noticed an image of the Virgin Mary carved into an elm, with beautiful roses gathered at her feet. Just gorgeous.