Pickling

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PICKLING


If I disappear before the cucumbers

come in, slice them thin

and spread them across the cutting

board like the ashes we scattered

over the garden in October. 


There is a flat of Bell jars 

in top of the kitchen cabinet. 

Make pickles. I wasn't

stingy with the seeds, meaning 

you shouldn’t run short.


Store them in some quiet, dark 

place where only you 

hold the key, and make your way 

down there all Winter long,


hearing the seal open

like a drawn breath and the fleshy 

crunch between your teeth 

like the pop my knees 

would make as I got out of bed. 


Taste both the vinegar 

and the sweet. If I planned right

it will carry you to Spring. 


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