the crowd surges
upon shelves
of endless bounty
the aroma
of herbs and green
of flowers and fruit
of bread and honey
of apples and maple
they swirl about
wide open eyes
their voices loud
humbled
by the clambering
of feet
the colours
they bleed
merging
in a sea of plenty
of toil and pride
of shared tables
of history's memory
in the joy
of connection
with the land
