ode to a beet

sweet juicy root
so misunderstood and unloved
your greens are so tender
the stems dye my rice bright pink
your root, boiled to perfection
not earthy and muddy as some claim
more like a burst of sugar
you dye my hands as as I clean you
your skin slips off like a sleeve when cooked
the pink red stains everything it touches
thank you for your intricate flavor
and being so complete
I enjoy your entire plant
from the tips of your leaves
to the base of your root
yum.



by the way... there is a reason I stopped writing poetry.