In
A dak, misty morning last autum
I walked outside through that thick
Fog that was happening outside
Right infront of my eyes
That fog felt to me
Like being inside of a pickle jar
All day long
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lol. I think I understand his meaning. I guess a murky morning could be like trying to look through a jar of pickle juice.......but I have to admit that I love the title of this poem! I was hoping for a scary, spooky write! Instead I got pickles.....