Thanksgiving Day

25 Nov

As the clock strikes midnight it’s now Thanksgiving Day

Thousands of bodies huddled together

In insulated fortresses that shield the weather

Others in alleys, caves, beds of paper and hay

 

The sun rises on a blue sky and chilly morn’

Alarms break peaceful slumbers

Responsibilities of the day murmured

While frost and freeze welcome the forlorn

 

At midday ovens roar and refrigerators hum

Homes buzz, preparations made

The bird is slayed, the table laid

The poor outside stay dutifully mum

 

As evening comes, time for the feast to begin

Appetites sated and tummies stuffed

For pie and candy the children huff

On the scraps the lowly mend

 

The sun sets once more far in the west

Families of all kinds take their leave

driving, flying, however they please

Another day ending for the least earthly blest

 

Without a word in their beds the masses lay

To sleep until another day

But the poor man looks heavenward to say

“Thank you, Lord, for this Thanksgiving Day.”

 

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