Food Poetry Friday

Peeling Onions
by Adrienne Rich

Only to have a grief
equal to all these tears!

There's not a sob in my chest.
Dry-hearted as Peer Gynt

I pare away, no hero,
merely a cook.

Crying was labor, once
when I'd good cause.
Walking, I felt my eyes like wounds
raw in my head,
so postal-clerks, I thought, must stare.
A dog's look, a cat's, burnt to my brain -
yet all that stayed
stuffed in my lungs like smog.

These old tears in the chopping-bowl.

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This seemed appropriate for a dreary, grey Friday.  I took the photo on our trip to California in May; it's from the Santa Monica Farmer's Market. I hope your cooking projects this weekend only bring tears to your eyes with their sheer deliciousness!