the bazaar

misterr misterr

I got a day for you

what sorrt a day
you want

misterr

he walked
slowly
but determinedly
through the bazaar

taking in the sounds

misterr

hey misterr

and the sights

letting the whole
hyperactive
milieu
with its raucous cacophony
wash over him
as he walked

I got a day

what sorrt a day
you want

I got sun
got moon

got storrm and rrain

misterr

you want day verry clear
I got

.
.
.
.

hey
misterr

today
was for strolling

for atmosphere
and familiarity

tomorrow
he might bargain
a little

bicker

to acquire
his weather

Frank Prem Poetry