Newmarket

People and horses

The Newmarket was the oldest market in town
farmers came here selling potatoes and other greenery
Their women-folk sold thick, long underwear 
winter can be cold when the North-west blows. 
Horse manure was quickly scooped up the town’s housewives
good for the rosebushes.
Horse piss gave off a fragrance of time gone by.
Time changed, first slowly farmers had trucks
sold orange, tomatoes and exotic fruits never heard of before
and one day the horses to had gone.
Everybody was busy not time for a wee dram and a chat.
It was the horses that made the market pretty
oddly enough the iron ring on the railing is still here
Waiting for the warm breath of the workhorses.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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