the flea market

the flea
market is open for business.
the cups
and glasses.
all lined in rows.
unpacked again
for the show.
old shoes and suits.
postcards, hand written.
the ink now smudged
after a hundred years
of handling.
vinyl records. a dentist's
chair.
whose lamps were
these.
what hand wore this ring
in love
or friendship. what story
is there behind
that dress,
yellow as a hummingbird
hung beside
the drab rest.
the tables serpentine
under the domed
roof. the vendors
tired from the day,
counting their coins,
their folding
money.
looking at their watches.
opening boxes
to pack once more
and go on their way.