i am walking with the greengrocer of hester street
he walks up the walkup and he walks inside
he walks into the kitchen and he opens up a brown paper bag
a brown bag filled with spring flowers, they are for his young daughter of ten
his wife is busy smoothing a tablecloth in the dining room
their apartment is small, she works in the garter factory
there is no shame in this work of hers
there is no shame in the affection they both hold for their only daughter
she averts her eyes when we walk into in the kitchen
she turns to the window and she looks down on the city
she closes the curtains and she contemplates the dining room table
"sometimes i think too much" says the greengrocers' wife, out loud;
"sometimes too much light falls into the world!"
of course she is not a superstitious woman that is so old country
but sometimes when she is not careful strange thoughts come into her head
she did not expect to think these thoughts when she married the greengrocer
she did not expect these altogether uncommon and unwelcome thoughts
something like doubt has entered between muslin curtains and her mind
between her mind and the muslin curtains, something like doubt
muslin curtains, which are blowing into the room like a phoenician ship
a ship with sails she once saw a picture of as a child in her father's bedroom
the painting frightened her, she liked that feeling of being frightened
yes! it was a phoenician ship she was sure of it
a ship with very white sails, sailing through
black water on the bay of napoli


�2007 by George Wallace