Also as Thanksgiving approaches, I am very grateful for each of you and hope your day is filled with delicious food and warm embraces.
Thanksgiving
for Two
The adults we call
our children will not be arriving
with their children
in tow for Thanksgiving.
We must make our
feast ourselves,
slice our half-ham,
indulge, fill our plates,
potatoes and green
beans
carried to our table
near the window.
We are the feast,
plenty of years,
arguments. I’m
thinking the whole bundle of it
rolls out like a
white tablecloth. We wanted
to be good company
for one another.
Little did we know
that first picnic
how this would go.
Your hair was thick,
mine long and easy;
we climbed a bluff
to look over a
storybook plain. We chose
our spot as high as
we could, to see
the river and the checkerboard
fields.
What we didn’t see
was this day, in
our pajamas if we
want to,
wrinkled hands
strong, wine
in juice glasses,
toasting
whatever’s
next,
the decades of
side-by-side,
our great good luck.
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