Poem of the Week

Thanks for the Garlic
by Alice Walker

Thanks for the garlic,
I think I'm going
To plant
It now

Not wait
for spring.

The bulbs are
So fresh
And white
Their skins
So tight.

I love it
That you did
Not want to send
Them in anything
That would
Crush
Them. Though
Crushing is likely surely
to be
their offsprings
Fate.

That you waited
to find the perfect
Box.

Do you understand
how like you
This is?

There they sit
A smartly demure
Row
On the counter
Near the door
That leads
To the beginning
Of their future
lives;
Fiery at heart,
you say.

Your hardy
Garlic
Souls
Unrepented
of their inner
Flame
Serenely
Awaiting
My gardener's
Pleasure
of time
And Place

Unabashed
By whatever's
to come

Cool

As nuns.

***

A great poem. One of my favorites, actually. Ms. Walker employs clear, unique metaphors to describe the garlic - "fiery souls," "cool as nuns" - evoke a powerful image of these tiny bulbs. The poet's gratitude is abundantly clear. "Thanks for the Garlic" just reminds me to be grateful for the little things as much as the big ones.