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Moses Lake Farmer’s Market
by Lenore Plassman

I pad through a kaleidoscope
purples and greens
blue-jeaned legs
voices high and low
laughter and coughs.
Selecting a bag of washed radishes
shorts and long whites
I look into
kindly grandmother eyes.
Her soft nuances
give to me
scents of ploughed ground
swallows dipping over barns
and in that final
trailing syllable,
my own,
my mother.





 

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