Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving, my 75th

this chilly autumn morning. Birdbath frozen.

Abandoned houseplant drooped dead on the ledge.


Jays and Cardinals still roost on barren branches—

dabs of reds and blues. Ice-frosted leaves curl.

Squirrel digs for a nut. The sky gray splotched.


I, warm, caffeinated, finish devotionals.

Stomach bloated with eggs, bacon, hashbrowns.

pontifications and rants on FB completed.


Pausing . . . listening . . . watching the minute hand

ticking away seconds on the wall clock.

Blessings and gratitude abound.


Not huddled in a Ukrainian shelter.

Not hiding in a store as an assassin blasts innocents away.

Not shock-waved in a massive street fair explosion.


We plan to drive to our beloved kids’ feast, trek through

a Toy Story landfill layered with dolls, musical keyboards,

animal sound books—dodging a mine field of Legos


unless . . . on a street intersection as I zoom through

a caution light, radio blaring with Xmas music, yakking,

an impatient soul guns his across as his clicks green


and targets us broadside . . . just thinking.

Soon we’ll mix cranberry-berry sauce, apple, tangerine,

banana chunks, shredded coconut, whipped cream,


and top it with powdered nutmeg.