thanksgiving

the turkey comes over
its covered with past memories
the stuffing rolls by
it was time enjoyed, time hated
the cranberry sauce is passed
just like the squabbles that last
in some other mind's eye
that disappear with pumpkin pie
Seconds come, seconds go
enough for ones belly to show
this I know. On thanksgiving I glow
and wish to steam up the snow

what are you thankful for
the ability to list.. a bore?
but the list matters
though it is a chore
because you can make it
something to adore
and if you can withold
the truth
then there is one sleuth
that knows what your
words do not show
this I know
this I know
to be thankful for this day
to break bread
to break belts
and waistlines instead
to be thankful for
the time to fight
the time to joke
the time to light
tick, tick, tick
the nervousness
ends

at the end of thanksgiving, my reading friend.

Not a feeling you can grok?
then pry your mind, poke
to find that despite the shortcomings
despite the shortcomings, happiness
is just like stuffing
its filled the turkey
and it is nothing

a pessimist you cry, a depressed melancholy fool!
a far cry from the truth, the truth is too cool
for one to realize
I merely refer to family's
time
before my eyes
and am thankful for what I despise
because I love the ability to recognize
that time with family dies
so the moment was enjoyed
with all the will I employed
here's to family
here's to life
here's to turkey, potatoes, and strife
this what I'm thankful for
this list
these words
these metaphors