Thanksgiving for Two; a poem by Marjorie Saiser

Some of us are sitting down with our family members today, and some Reds and readers are having a much smaller celebration. Whether your Thanksgiving is for two or twenty, we wish you all the blessings of the season.

 

Thanksgiving for Two
by Marjorie Saiser

The adults we call our children will not be arriving

with their children in tow for Thanksgiving.

We must make our feast ourselves,

slice our half-ham, indulge, fill our plates,

potatoes and green beans

carried to our table near the window.

We are the feast, plenty of years,

arguments. I’m thinking the whole bundle of it

rolls out like a white tablecloth. We wanted

to be good company for one another.

Little did we know that first picnic

how this would go. Your hair was thick,

mine long and easy; we climbed a bluff

to look over a storybook plain. We chose

our spot as high as we could, to see

the river and the checkerboard fields.

What we didn’t see was this day, in

our pajamas if we want to,

wrinkled hands strong, wine

in juice glasses, toasting

whatever’s next,

the decades of side-by-side,

our great good luck.

 

Poem copyright ©2014 by Marjorie Saiser