A little shower and blackberries by the box

It was only just sprinkling, drops

sporadic, what they call

a chance, you might get rain

at the farmer’s market.  Produce

and baked goods dry under

square tents which shed

rain by the collar full

if you happen to be standing

under the edge when the rain

sheds from the fabric.

People look around, walk

around, look around –

they see the sweet corn

but not the potatoes,

red tomatoes, bright,
kohlrabi invisible,

carrots still good for eyesight,

unsold behind the beets.

People’s gazes glance,

eyes left and right, blank stares

in the middle. Stand still

with an umbrella in your hand,

no one will ever know

you were there. Only

a sprinkling, drops

sporadic, what they might

call a chance, you might

get rain at the farmer’s

market.