Sour

At a dinner so late, Felt like weights on my eyes, I scarfed down a sandwich And crispy hot fries. Along with fresh coffee, It helped me revive, For fries are a mainstay That keep me alive. But next to my sandwich And cole slaw, my plate Held a treat, which was clearly The best thing I ate: A fat slice of pickle, Just bursting with crunch, The perfect companion To dinner or lunch. It added allure And the greatest part yet Is this pickle was SOUR – The most you can get. They’re almost extinct So I sure was surprised To bite into a taste That New Yorkers once prized. I pondered the source Of its barrel of brine, But wherever it came from, I’m thrilled it was mine!