Pickled By Human Condition

When I was young and relished moments unknown

The doubt of self without a drop of vinegar

Fearful drought as tears rolled down

Did not quench this thirsting hunger

Thriving within the berry briars of age

The smallest delight is a journey periled

Where unknown desires the required epiphany

Naked truth pickled by human condition

The sour fruit plucked in blooded palm

Relished by youthful reverence gone

Considered a banquet to this starving soul

~

DBrown Fisher

© Nov 2004