Sauerkraut in Winter

In my fridge summer ferments,
in sauerkraut in winter,
salty summer,
red cabbage summer,
pale green cabbage summer,
made at summer’s end,
in a bowl, like kneading bread,
till water, once rain, covers summer
crisp and bursting, ripe and sweet
and sour.

It’s not far a summer field
sauerkraut in winter,
translucent winter,
healing, hearty, fireplace winter,
tart and crunchy winter,
winter to be shared
in sauerkraut Hungarian stew,
sauerkraut, sausage, blue potatoes,
in a toasty-warm, mingling reuben.

This morning is frozen-white,
undeniable at seven below.
I go to the fridge and find
the familiar mason jar of sauerkraut,
cabbages once growing in my garden.
I open the lid,
reach in and spoon
summer out.