Pickling Time
Pickling Time
momma stood up
and stretched
arms wide enough
to take us all in, more.
she had that look
the fall look,
there every year since
I can remember.
well girls, pickling time,
it is tradition in mama’s kitchen
to pickle most everything
she can get her hands on
if there is no recipe
she invents one.
like the time she tried
pickling orange rinds
didn’t work
next year she candied them
worked out just fine.
let me see, there were;
relishes for hamburgers and such
ketchup, piccalilly, sweet mixed pickles
tomato chilli sauce with peaches and pears
baby corn cobs, of course her dills best
at the county fair last year.
this years new attempt
pickled watermelon rind
soon the back of the house
floated on an air of spices and vinegars
as we sat on the porch peeling,
chopping and dicing.
momma always says
if you want it in the winter
we have to do the work now
we talked softly, memories of other years
who was here who had gone,
occasionally a burst of laughter when a story
which always began,’ with do you remember when,’
was retold . the late summer sun
warns us as much as our hearts
love each other. I guess you could
say pickles kept us together
through all those years
wars, recessions, depression
we stood tall and firm
just like mommas dills.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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