Second Helpings

by The Hearth Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

At Thanksgiving, gratitude arrives late. First come chairs from the basement, a burned roll, and the argument about timing. Then someone passes the potatoes. Someone makes room for a new partner. An empty place is named without ceremony. No table is uncomplicated. Still, the bowl circles again, and we practice giving thanks with our mouths full and our history present.
60 words · 12 lines · Free Verse
thanksgivingfamilygratitudeenumerationcontrastimageryfree-verse

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