Eyes were large
She scanned the Farmers' Market
Crowd alive
And noises filled her ears.
Cold outside
But winter bundling
Brought her over.
Mom held hand
As brilliant items
Rosa eyed.
One old man
Seated, playing
Sweet harmonicas.
Rosa ran
To tell him
She played too.
Strange new link
Their ages notwithstanding.
Marvel what
A sweet wee tune will do.
Rosa's pocket held
Blackberries.
Full and juicy.
Might the Elder
Want to have some too?
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