No fruit for it

I came to trade three weeks of
effort - these things I've made.
I walked from stall to stall
opening my bag and
turning away. At the end
a man gave me four potatoes and
an onion for a carved wooden boat.
I told him with the back of a
shirt I could fit it with sails.
He declined and looked away. A
handful of nails got me
an old pair of pants. I
traded a bundle of rags for
some tea.
I was a whole business of small things.

But I could get no oranges. No pears.
None of the plums.
I could not get anything
sweet for my work. There
was no reward.

I walked home past the dogs
in the street covered in mud.