River Market Saturdays

Hello everyone;

I did say "haphazardly" participating in the April PAD Challenge. This is why day one is being posted after day two.
Day 1 prompt of "write an optimistic poem"

Not Dead Yet, Me

Is it really such a tragedy
that my sentences are raggedy
words tread together by similarity?
The conversation is still defiantly
expressions of me.

Is it really such a travesty
that I wander aimlessly?
When I can travel through time so easily
…our life history
…a life lived outrageously.

Is it really such a disparity
that I have forgotten the melody
of your name? Still there’s some clarity….
I know the feelings of family
and passions intensity.

Is it really such an indignity
that something once familiar is now a novelty.
Or that simple tasks escape me.
I still dance to life’s jamboree
and sing majestically.

Is it really such a finality
even as I become more absentee?
There is plenty of life in my legacy.
Don’t bother writing my eulogy,
when there’s still time to create a memory.

©2024 Delaina Miller

Day 4 (write in a new place)

Before the sun rises
produce heavy trucks descend
dues paid for the space
banked on first row ambitions.
Tables groan with the burden
heirloom tomatoes,
pumpkins tiny and small,
careful — don’t to trip over the large ones
placed precariously near your feet.
Buy a baseball bat shaped zucchini
that hid in the patch, it’s perfect for bread.

The sweet scent of kettle corn teases
ideas of breakfast and the inner child begs.
Sprigs of lavender hang from a corner stall
the bouquet draws the passerby.
Chatter distorted by space
buyers lean in to negotiate.

A heavy chill rushes clothes too thin
leafs only starting to turn.
A saxophone pleads a blue-jazz tune
that does not fit with dawn but sounds
of love, of home, of each one of us
that walk this treasured market
in the early light of fall.