A New Poem by Dr. Anne Compton (1986)
May 19th, 2013
Encore Literary Magazine is very proud to be hosting a reading tomorrow featuring Governor General’s Literary Award-winning poet, critic, editor and anthologist Anne Compton. On Monday May 20, 7pm at Kaza- Maza in Montreal, Anne will be joined by fellow poet, critic, editor, translator and anthologist Evan Jones. “Onion” is previously unpublished.
Weighs more than it looks: Should do, my father says, bent among
October rows. I’ve come the yellow corridors to be with him.
Like a star compacted by gravity – that dense.
Nebula of particles, fused and lit. Unus, its Latin name.
Best dug at first frost: Hard, though, to be rid of the soil specks
in the outer sheath. Iron flavour in the winter sandwich.
Graded by flesh colour and as to keeping – storage or straightaway.
The Vidalia, in pale-coloured skin, similar to all things fresh –
sweetest forthwith. Thick-skinned storage, a deeper flavour.
Decades gone, he could be starlight, could be what’s
encrypted in cells. My cells. Information’s never lost.
Heaven from earth, according to him. Readable parchment –
in layers – had we the cipher to decode it. Circle by circle.
At the root-end, there are tear-producing compounds,
where it gripped earth. This is true of all temporary things.
About this part, turn aside at the last.