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Blue Cheese and Old Pickles – 3-14-25 Dedicated to my Grandmother Pickel and her famous pickles.
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Blue Cheese and Old Pickles

Forgotten in a tapestry of shadows
Woven in long twilights and long rows
Of blue cheeses, tomatoes, daisies and flying salmon
Shelves, birthing dust bunnies,
Give up the last jar of her pickles
Sealed in clear mason glass
Still smelling of dill and garlic and her hands.

Her handiwork still looks
As fresh as crisp cucumbers
Gathered in fields wearing sunflower bonnets	
And the scent of new earth readied
To grow round again 
With new seeds
Not to forget the children she gave into angel’s hands.

Brought into the light, her love shimmers
Through the artistry of her hands
A rhapsody, sealed and sung across decades,
Plays as I ladle jam and new pickles into her jars,
Savoring my harvest with gorgonzola on toast
And raspberry sherbet on a waffle cone.

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