Ode to an Antique Dealer
Down to the cabin she drives the van,
Cleans and Sweeps it out,
loads it with her treasured plan,
And drives it out before sunrise shout.
Hours on the empty, dark road
She gets to the flea market behind a jalopy,
And unloads the stuff with love bestowed,
Arranging it under canopy.
Sunrise and the public arrive.
“Won’t you come and buy my wares?”
“Oh come in and look ! (and help keep me alive)”.
Breakfast, lunch, and supper are prayers.
After the sun and dust have played,
She loads the van as she begun,
with unwanted treasures stayed,
and disappears into the setting sun.
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