“Thailand Market”

Poem by Megan Chan (12).

When I first stepped foot into the pavilion,

I had never seen a place so filled with life. 

Grilled squid and meat sat 

skewered in cardboard cups.

Intricately cut custard colored pineapples

were speared with wooden sticks in plastic bags.

Too many smells 

both sweet and savory

filled my nose,

yet all combined into something 

addicting.

Colorful lights dimly lit the night,

strung high above the stalls that were filled 

with clothes, food, and art.

Different music played every five feet, but was drowned 

out by laughing and talking.

It was impossible to settle my senses on one 

stall, but I so badly wanted to.

City buildings towered over me, and curved 

in like a shield

from the lit sky that polluted the stars.

I was pulled every which way by my mother’s hand.

She clinged tight,

afraid she would lose me in the people and noise.

But I wish I told her,

to pause

for just a little.