Main Street Nursery

They quiver
with the motion of her hand
and she calls them pretty.
No one comes
.
here without joy.
Fiber filagree adds color
miracles. Needy, pretty,
drizzled. Shivering.
.
as she moves them.
The women tote
them, arranging and
mixing them in the sun.
.
Life is in whispers,
lighter than gauze,
the shuffle of breath,
the brush of tooth on lip.