May ‘26

Market Vendor

We work alone but come together

each at our own station on the row

in self-assembled tents we

lend aid to one another

as needed,

for we each know the struggle

is real - Do you have some duct tape?

We vary in degree of creativity

but are all

above average entrepreneurs,

or we would not be here.

Some paint or assemble, others mix or bake,

some mix and assemble -

the means to the end

are thumbprint unique.

And they come,

strolling past us like crests on waves

one after another

carrying cash and curiosity

sifting through our goods

eager to strike gold

or at least something unique

to eat or set in their windowsill

or wear to work on Monday

or hang on their wall above the kitchen table

or something to say ‘I love you’ to someone.

We exchange their currency for

our hearts and chutzpah,

they believing theirs a better deal

and it probably is.

None of us is getting rich.

The shadows shift

our backs ache,

but it’s worth it on a good day.

Then the rustling begins,

the countdown of closing

ten…

pull out the bins

nine…

fold up the signs

eight…

start filling the boxes

seven…

Yes, I’m still open,

six…

dismantle shelves

five…

fold up tables

four…

down comes the tent

three…

load up the car

two…

‍ ‍See you next week

one…

drive away tired, satisfied

from sharing our smiles and hours

trading tokens of our hearts

for enough cash

to do it all again next week

alongside each other,

our tribe.