Pickle jar…

A pickle jar

at the end

of a long and

fruitful trip

down

memory lane

elicits

father’s wrath

mother’s love

a lemony chuckle

and

a still life

of curly old women

painting time

in oil

salt and lemon

unabashed by

childish retorts

of sultry

old men

with too much

pepper

on their tongues

and

little patience

for love

and pickles.

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