Sorting Onions

I hope banality leads to wisdom

Drained after an afternoon sleep,

sweating like a failed lover,

              not sure to have heard

              a voice that made me pause.

Sorting onions to dry in the sun,

              shuffling the green shoots

              sinews of string and dust.

My face fronted by the acrid smell 

              of white insides and roots.

For a moment alone. Done.    

Reviews

[Valentine]

Sounds like my dad after a day of working in his big garden. A hard labor he loved to do.. Valentine

[Tina Kline]

Doing a simple chore leads the mind to wander in more complicated landscapes.
i enjoy reading your creative writes very much.

[Leslie Philibert]

Hallo Tina, thanks for the kind words.

[Tina Kline]

You're welcome.

[Akshay Rawal]

I see this poem as a celebration of simple chores and the bliss in their simplicity. Simple tasks, however trite, can be commited with devotion and with a purpose of contribution. Keep writing, Sir.

[Leslie Philibert]

My thanks and best wishes.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

there is something so palpable about your poetry....and here again...the sights, sounds, touch, taste and smell especially...the scent of onions almost overpowering...

oh those moments alone.

[Leslie Philibert]

I feel the most happy when I am alone in my garden, I hope I was able to explain this here.
Thanks for the kind words.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you did so, quite eloquently.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I cannot tell you Leslie how I so look forward to your always well considered poems. This is another and reminded me of how Seamus Heaney could evoke sights an smell through his words. You have done so in this first class work.

[Leslie Philibert]

I`m not sure I deserve such a comparison to the fantastic Seamus Heaney, but if this has a small echo of his quality then I am delighted. Thanks for looking at this.