Family, Gratitude, poetry, poverty

Who Knew I’d Give Thanks For…

Boxed by Craig J. Sunter, flickr.com
Boxed by Craig J. Sunter, flickr.com

Twenty plus people arrive at my home tomorrow. Lots of cleaning, shopping, cooking. For that I give thanks.

We’re celebrating with my mom, who’s still kicking and funnier than she realizes, siblings, nieces, nephews, friends. For that I give thanks.

Growing up, my sisters and brother and mom lived in government housing. I didn’t really notice that we were poor until the holidays. For that I give thanks.

There are no more days like that for us, and never for our children. For that I give thanks.

Thanksgiving Poem

Cardboard charity box,

left on the back porch

on a dreary early morn.

 

A big mama chicken?

No, a turkey.

Our very own?

 

Green beans, corn,

lots of corn, cranberry jelly,

a bag of flour.

 

Potato flakes—

none of us ever tasted those before—

made flavorful with welfare butter,

a yellow block of sunshine.

 

A table

with more than two items

to go with the grape Kool-Aid

and tortillas.

 

One parent,

four children,

all together.

For that, I give thanks.

To all my readers, for sharing your generous comments, dialogue, blogs, and books, I give thanks.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and time spent with loved ones this holiday.