At a roadside stand

You can weave rainbows

into your work

its beauty

and yours

will shine as reflections

of each other

You can weave quetzals

and flowers

in the tradition of your grandmother

but with your own flair

hidden there

in that dark and crowded stall

hung so thickly

with tapestries

in impossibly bright colors

we entered to look

and you appeared shyly

third person we’d seen

emerge from the shadow

You said, “You like? This my work.”

You and your weaving

lit up that place

so now we have

one of your rainbows

and, reflected, the memory

of your charming smile.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 3, 2012