The Railway Bazaar

The crowded market spills onto the railway line
women sit cross-legged
their tiny children with them

great piles of eggs, a fish or two
fresh green vegetables
all under gaudy umbrellas.

In the shops close by
cheap Chinese plastic goods
lurid shopping bags, no handmade baskets.

The train comes, hesitates
no undignified hurry
as women move umbrellas, children,
leave their wares between the tracks.

At the station village women
jump down on the tracks
great baskets on their heads
to join the railway market.