‘Twas the month of Thanksgiving
and all through the house
there was scurry and worry light concern
that current and past trauma might make for a frenetic table gathering of like and unlike minds, as if things aren’t wild enough…
ahem
like a stubbornly wrinkled blouse.
Would the food come together?
Could the cats be corralled?
Will the state of the world
become so untenable that the sparks are unavoidable
phew
smell like an old mackerel?
(I'm sticking with that one.)
Text threads coordinating plans
fly about like dust motes 
and I have to believe
like each year before…
unfailingly…
we end up with a great anecdote.


For those who celebrate may your gathering be peaceful, compassionate, and as loving as humanly possible.💛