the dawn finds its face
above a fluid intersection
of misty paths

the market people
settle beside the Ping River
like birds

girls’ squat
over straw hats
brimful with chilies
or dried anchovies

they are not from Chiang Mai
they ride in on bicycles
through the night

small amounts of fish
are for sale
bundled in newspaper
and tied with pink raffia

we exchange a few coins
smiles

some mutual recognition

of the significance
of crossroads






















(C) Eric Ashford July 08