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T R S
Poems
Nov 2019
Kimchi hay at the end of days.
I left a hard boiled egg, and dried chili in a pickle jar.
I had a briney, eggy, chilly pickle in my fridge for weeks.
You can't pick in a pickle jar frozen in time just to see.
It's a bullet in the eye that never had a chance to breath and see.
So, one day, maybe, if I'm brave,
I'll have the strength to eat
The flavor I fermented in a jar at the end of the world with solar heat.
Written by
T R S
29/M
(29/M)
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J J
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Bogdan Dragos
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