The following poem was published in the April issue of Reach Poetry 247
Thanks to Ronnie Goodyer the Editor for selecting it.

Transactions on Thursdays

The last snow had melted, slowly the days’ length
etched into a pattern of rising, brightening hours;
doors slowly opened, boats swayed in tides

the town waited for the Dutchman
who would tie up on Thursday.

All winter women filled the baskets with bulbs
platting them into skein-species that hung
in coils waiting for hands to drape them in baskets

lined around the hold of the ship skippered by
the Dutchman who took them on Thursdays.

Then the market would fill with flag-fluttered stalls
displaying bursting bulb-baskets, ready to ship
and bales of lace crocheted by skilled fingers

all for the Dutchman who would buy
when he came to purchase on Thursdays.

Then the Dutchman sailed down river to the sea,
in boats filled with bulbs and lace ready to sell
to the astute market men ready to buy

from the Dutchman delivering the newest promise
for investors waiting on Thursdays.

Carolyn O’Connell©
March 2018