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					Winter Onions By Mariellen Gilpin Bright spring day Seated by the garden Cleaning winter onions First thing to grow. Planted in fall In rich loam Green shoots in February Tall spears in April. I dug the onions Shoved the spading fork deep Half-lifted, half-pulled Roots clinging to the soil Now, knife in hand, I clean each one, A quick slice taking off the roots Then I peel the tough skin Layer upon layer Till bulb and long neck Shine white. Last I lop off the leaves So a green whorl tops each. Anger Buried in heart-loam In the winter of my life Uprooted now Feeder roots cut away Tough parts peeled away Layer upon layer Til only the memory Without the hurt Clean New Full of juice and flavor Of life lived Only the good part Harvested.