Look at that,
the last pickle in the jar,
resting on the bottom,
out of reach of my fingers.
I tilt the jar to the side,
to almost,
turning it up side down,
it slides within reach.
Fishing it out,
with my thumb
and index finger…
I take a bite,
of dill pickle.
Now it has me,
wondering,
about another time,
seems long ago
and then like yesterday.
When I was a child,
I could reach right in,
with an unwashed hand
and fetch that pickle,
right off the bottom.
Would smack it,
right in my mouth,
giving it a quick bite,
wiping juice from my lips,
with the back of my hand.
I wonder,
about that time,
so long ago,
then like yesterday;
I wonder,
if Dill Pickles,
were sweeter then.
© James W. McRight Jr. 2001
-
Author:
BrokenWordsPoet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 23rd, 2013 09:27
- Comment from author about the poem: Being at the age where I look at children doing and saying the darnedest things, reminds me too, that once I was a child and a poem like this can be related to by old fossils like me; with a smile.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments3
I did the same thing as a child and can relate toyour poem as well.
Thanks for sharing, soki
Very nostalgic and sweet (or should I say dill) poem. I enjoyed it very much.
lol! left me with a smile! yep! we were all young once and this poem took me back to some of the simpler things of 'those good old days :-)'
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.