Walla Walla Onion Love
how your sweetness
seasons soups and chilis
but I digress
let us speak of the farm boys and gals
who dance after work
in taverns or quiet kitchens at home
listening to the juke box or the radio.
I planted Onions once or twice
no where near Washington or Georgia (Vidalia)
no this was East Nashville.
There in my beds of many floral hues
I was graced with Onions rising and opening their
round lavender blooms along my chain link fence.
Now, I am in a room
looking at a wall hung with dragons, and tigers, and Faerie Alphabets, and meditating budda's
and a plate full of polar bears.
My screen gleams with words dancing past, as I remember it in fragments
like falling tears, and roaring laughter, and the sigh of the wind through the trees.
Walls keep people out like locked doors or hold mysteries inside
listen can you here the puppie barking beyond that wall there?
or see the balloons sailing towards the round white moon from beyond the other wall there.
Come sit with me inside these walls
and share a tiny story or three my Walla Walla Onion Love.
Created: Feb 20, 2014TimefireRex Document Media