The Farmer’s Market is Here Today (Covid poems)

Farmers Market every Sunday I

stand behind a rope they choose my beets

leeks sweet potatoes we wait on chalked lines

six feet apart I wear a mask grey velvet gloves

some people go out every day and some stay in

Matthew said he’s the family’s designated shopper

but shopping makes him very nervous he can’t

wait get home my friend Marion┬áhasn’t been out in weeks

she’s right there in her apartment and Annie walks

to the park and back she sometimes buys oranges and daffodils

we do what we can we do what we know how Jacob

came to visit yesterday we met in the lobby six feet apart

he’d dyed his hair bright yellow and I put on my blue silk coat

there we were talking in the lobby about what we thought

about Tiger King Shitsel as though life were normal as though

we could hug when he said goodbye.

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.


  1. as though we could hug when he said goodbye is so poignant

    i apologize, i really haven’t been telling you how much i rely on these poems — so here, take this virtual buss MWAH!

  2. Esther,
    I am enjoying your posts SO MUCH! From the details of the color of the silk coat or the purple(?) suede gloves, to the recognition of how we make up but still yearn (always will) for what is normally normal.
    Makes my day, makes me sad and smile, too.

  3. You just can’t beat oranges and daffodils, gray velvet gloves, and blue silk coats, And– Jacob with his bright yellow hair let alone Tiger King Shitsel Even six feet apart! Thanks Esther.

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