Oh my!
More than a few turkeys died this year.

Never had I seen so many as in past weeks.

Frozen mountains of fowl
Piled high in supermarket freezers
Waiting for their place at crowded fall dinner tables.

An annual exodus of travellers
Venturing home
For family, feasting and football.

Airports, highways and byways choked to a slow crawl
Familiarity and that scent of roasting bird
Is what brings them from afar.

Give thanks, they say
As it first was so long ago
For health, and happiness and the ones we love to stay.

It’s sad, I think, we hear so little of those
Who shared bread in thanks that day as well
But found, for them, it was the calm before the storm.

Here in America, I suppose
At least they gave them that
Back home, for shame, it was not even contemplated.

But do what we can to right such wrongs
Quell our oft-cynical minds
And hope pained histories learn us well tomorrow.

There’s a spirit here that needs be kept.

I’m welcome in this house. These smiles keep me warm.
And food is afterthought.

Ezy Reading is out every Monday.