The Rain Market

The market woke beneath the rain

With canvas roofs and weathered signs

Merchants gathered by the square

While silver drops crossed crooked lines

Old baskets filled with herbs and fruit

Stood waiting by the stone-paved street

And wooden carts from distant hills

Rolled softly through the morning mist

The rain fell over every stall

And drifted through the market air

Small lanterns swayed above the square

While voices wandered everywhere

A clockmaker displayed his gears

A baker warmed the morning bread

An old musician tuned a flute

Beside a wall of painted red

The rain kept falling all the while

Upon the roofs of green and blue

As though the sky itself had come

To spend the day among them too

By afternoon the clouds grew thin

And sunlight crossed the cobbled ground

The merchants packed their tables down

As evening settled all around

The market closed beneath the rain