Poetry
Thanksgiving
Recipes revive
the taste and spice of the past
in their present form
pressed again into service
in eager healthy doses
Around this table
hands joined,
for better and worse,
heads bowed but eyes clear
the feast steams
in anticipation
a paved road lined
with plates,
bowls, knives, forks,
platters arranged
in converging lines
leading all the way
to future glory
if we can
stay the course
Leaves like ancestors
pile in the backyard to be
jumped in and savored
Pass the grace
in heaping helpings
dressed for every occasion
and sauced for longevity
hand in hand
together while we can
stand it, loaded
with all the fixings
brimming with a gratitude
that needs no words,
but still should
be spoken
with thanks, given freely,
and every just dessert
topped with
the cream of the crop
be lovingly handed down
Memory settles
at the head of the table
offering blessings
where blood and water mixing
are sweeter than finest wine
The photo at the top is of my Grandmother’s cornucopia decoration, stuffed partially with the faux fruit made by a business my Grandfather helped run, a long time ago. Both are on her table, which lives now in my dining room. Happy Thanksgiving, y’all! Whether you’re celebrating it or not, I double dog dare you to spend a little time in a state of gratitude-fueled joy . . . .
