Wild onion, the scent of which
tints the air, a late afternoon
prior to dusk and dinner
she must go in to cook soon.
Right now she enjoys the fragrance
of new mown lawns, honeybees
dancing directions, humming
a soft tune, hugging her knees
loosely with sun-warm elbows,
distracted by thoughts of shorelines
and vacations soon over.
The harvest looms, seasons decline
into winter work, slower action;
no more teasing scent of wild onion.
Joann Grisetti has been writing for 45 years. She is a retired teacher from Florida. She receives encouragement from her daughter and has recently enrolled in a creative writing workshop. She is a member of Poetry Soup. You can read more of her poetry there.