Selected Poems

Thanksgiving


The idea is to prepare a meal of sufficient proportion and variety
to give everyone pause. Such a cornucopia of country wealth
must never go unblessed, so my uncle says our thanks
for the productive earth, and for these United States 
where we can grow cattle and vegetables as large as God allows.
But after this traditional moment there is another, 
spontaneous pause: someone will praise 
the dark aroma of venison or the succulence of the ham,
someone else will simply waft a hand
over the pan of hot buttermilk biscuits. Mostly, 
everyone will just look. Maybe it’s indecision 
about what to ask for first, but we are also impressed 
with the wholeness and beauty of what is set before us:
the bright array of acorn squash, corn-on-the-cob 
and purple snap beans, the green 
seven-layer salad displayed in a fine 
crystal bowl, the steaming baked apples, 
Aunt Marianne’s special sweet potato pie. 
In this moment, we raise our eyes to each other
and give thanks for our labor’s just reward.

(published by Arts and Humanities Council of Baton Rouge)