APPEALING ONION

 

Getty Pictures

Golden brown,

Translucent,

Papery light,

The onion skin

Slid off

The counter,

Moving in the breeze,

Stirred

When,

The screen door

Opened,

Lifting up and up,

Swirling

Until—

The still point—-

Then,

Floated down,

Caught

In the streaming light

Of a an afternoon,

Flooding

The room

Through

An open West window.

Back-and-forth,

Here,

Then there,

It settled

On top of the dog’s

Water bowl,

Where,

It hovered

Light as a feather

Until,

Sinking

To the bottom.

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