Poem of the Day


Brisbane West End Markets

by Anna Jacobson


Under a canopy of fig trees

we pass a busker, watch his hands dance

over the surface of the drum and hear

music— soft, warm, bright.

Honey sounds that take us past the

food stalls and hot Afghani bread filled

with leeks and onion. I follow behind a girl

who carries a white Persian cat. Its pampered

face peers over her shoulder at me.