Onions

It always makes me cry, peeling onions. And then, in a sort of reverse causality, I start to feel sad.
I remember all the sad things that have been in my life, as if to find a reason to be crying.
I think of the sad things that could yet happen.
Over the onions I have cried for Honey, my hamster when I was seven, who died within months.
Over the onions I have cried for lost loves.
Over the onions I have cried for misunderstandings.