Poet’s Corner – Washing Onions
As I wash onions
Their many skins falling
Like autumn leaves,
I watch colors swirl before me
On the easel.
Forming a heart of the purest blue
As images brushed big and bright
Melt into each other like cream.
Focused between falling leaves
And sounds of Beethoven,
The morning hours flow in easy rhythms
Completing the given tasks.
Poem, “Washing Onions” and Artwork, “Fallen Leaves,” by Marsha Solomon
