We have bent the day
to meet our needs
of enjoying a feast of obligation
giving due where due is due,
thanking him and her and the great
Oh, mother! May I have the
leg before Uncle Ted begs it away?
We tussle and grin and murmur
to ourselves or the one ally we
bribe our way with candy or a
Stuffed, lazy, dull-eyed and
done, we fall into piles among
the furniture. A lucky two or few
find empty beds and snuggle with
coats and throws and an excess
of pillows and shams and,
if truly lucky, a cat.
There is a
game on that goes unwatched
except when the crowd roars.
There is a movie playing telling
the tale of an older, gentler time.
There will be tears at the end.
And then there is pie and coffee
and cookies and a sweeter feast
than will ever be until about
one month more.
is next. But now, we bow our heads
and say grace upon grace for this
moment, this time, this place
where we are together again,
mindful, thankful, unreasonably
blessed in this holy mess of our
Amen and amen.
* It’s PoMo! To learn about PoMo (POetry MOnday), click here. What happens in your house in Thanksgiving? Any of what is shared in this poem feel familiar? Please share your experiences and memories in the