Sour

At a dinner so late,
Felt like weights on my eyes,
I scarfed down a sandwich
And crispy hot fries.

Along with fresh coffee,
It helped me revive,
For fries are a mainstay
That keep me alive.

But next to my sandwich
And cole slaw, my plate
Held a treat, which was clearly
The best thing I ate:

A fat slice of pickle,
Just bursting with crunch,
The perfect companion
To dinner or lunch.

It added allure
And the greatest part yet
Is this pickle was SOUR –
The most you can get.

They’re almost extinct
So I sure was surprised
To bite into a taste
That New Yorkers once prized.

I pondered the source
Of its barrel of brine,
But wherever it came from,
I’m thrilled it was mine!