Rains have come & gone.
Neon red shape-shifts
across the puddles,
and sparkles on glistening
roadways.
People converge
on those rain slick streets,
expecting to be fed.
Vendors work crinkling tarps,
trying to remove them without
sloshing standing water --
working with controlled haste.
Fires are lit and dialed in.
Soon plumes of aroma
from street food delicacies
will stretch down the street:
Silently calling & bewitching.
Night Market [Free Verse]
Reply


