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Pickling Love
Mandy Alyss Brown

The foul smell of love:
Permeating the trailer
Sinking into the dishes, the cream cabinets, and
Our crinkled hands
While we worked together
A four year old and her mother.
The sweetness,
Pickles for dinner
Bigger than my forearm
Sour enough to hurt your teeth.
The taste of those summer days,
Sweet country air
Seasoned with cedar and oak
And crunching into my mother’s love
Letting the juices fly across the kitchen.
This poem first appeared in Persona (Texas State University English Department, Issue 47 (Spring 2011): 62).
Used here with the author’s permission.

Mandy Alyss Brown earned a BA in English at Texas State University while working at the university's Writing Center. She finished a creative honors thesis which she hopes to turn into a novel. Mandy currently works as stay-at-home mom in Central Texas and is a freelance proof reader/editor and writing tutor in her spare time. Learn more about her at

Post New Comment:
chris schulz:
"sweet country air, seasoned with cedar and oak" lovely lines
Posted 05/03/2013 05:34 PM
wendy morton:
This is a poem you can taste. A great metaphor.
Posted 05/03/2013 09:52 AM
sweet, crunchy and juicy all at once...very nice
Posted 05/03/2013 09:38 AM
Posted 05/03/2013 07:46 AM

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