Craig
Google
Beneath tin roofs where voices rise and fall,
Plaza Minorista hums, a vibrant sprawl.
Cartmen cry out through the jumbled maze,
Palpable air thick with fruit-sweet haze.
A tangle of colors, of peppers and lime,
Fish on crushed ice, ticking off time.
Chilies like fire, and mangoes like sun,
Sacks spilling comidas, every shade spun.
The clatter, the barter, the confusion of detalle,
Chaos and wonder in every calle.
A crossroads where Medellín comes to feed,
On flavor, on frenzy, on hunger, on need.