Home » Poetry » Day 81 – Famry

Day 81 – Famry

We are a jumbled mess of dogs and couch cushions,
peanuts and somewhere the remote, laughing like the neighbors can’t hear,
though they probably do.
Somebody got the wrong turkey again,
brothers won’t put on pants,
and I am the devil with a phone in her hand,
but it’s all Thanksgiving to me.
There’s something to a delegated day
when everything’s normal again,
the way we grew up, the comfort we remember,
the wells of ourselves filled back up.

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3 thoughts on “Day 81 – Famry

  1. Yeah… I’m not so high on Holidays anyway; a bunch of Pilgrims pigged out. So what? Now you have to prepare a big, pig out, and then clean up the mess… This is called: ‘Having a good time…’ Smile, or they’ll think you’re being unthankful :O(

  2. Love the imagery – and the sentiment, too. Thanksgiving celebrations should be a little messy, a little chaotic, because all of us humans are a bit messed up. And if we can’t celebrate the messiness, then we’re not truly grateful for life. Happy Holydays!

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