Thanksgiving Day

My Mother and Grandmothers

are cooking Thanksgiving at my home today

Oh my no they aren't in the same kitchen

but their own kitchens that have expanded

beyond the walls of the place I live

The rain awakened me this morning

and the clattering of pans

in between the smells of cooking turkey

and pie oh yes pie

All the cousins aunts and uncles

everybody I ever knew in my family

and some I never met until today

arrive in this magic

as a great table begins to expand

in my living room

Why they chose my place is beyond me

and beyond the small walls of these rooms

that seem to explode with the arrival

of family and friends

Such a table has never been seen

It grows each minute

when someone remembers another

who belongs with this group

Out comes the bottles of wine

with grandchildren begging for a taste

More cousins arrive

Brothers sisters wives husbands

hundreds now chattering a roar

that outdoes the rain on a metal trailer roof

I see my children when they were little

playing with their own children

in an impossible scene of hilarity

that spawns a sandbox in another room

that expands suddenly before my eyes

as little hands steal olives

and a chorus of mothers and grandmothers

sing in multi-part harmony

their age-old song

“Now don't spoil your dinner”

that seems to have been written by Bach

and Sondheim all at once

an amazing chorus that seems to last

through many curtain calls

dripping with applause

Now from a hundred ovens

dancing turkeys browned to perfection

drop on platters for the fathers and grandfathers

going back generations

to feel important as they strop and steel

their fancy knives used only on this day

The table expands beyond all walls

in a star shaped explosion as if July 4^th

just became a day for furniture to detonate

with more and more chairs filled

with friends family and the ones

who need such a party

as they've never seen before

Soon there are soldiers from every war

home to hug their moms

tears flow into barrel-sized gravy boats

Dancing down the middle of every section

the finest silverware jumps into hands

as platters float silently in front of the family

for we are all family today

doing justice for our freedoms and our gratitudes

As I walk from my bedroom

into this circus of Thanksgiving magic

someone yells for me to say grace

words I now stutter with my radio-trained voice

whose ending is the loudest amen I've ever heard

breaking windows and sending clouds away

to seize the light of a distant sun

that now surrounds each member

of this golden table

Happy Thanksgiving everyone I yell

and all at once it seems

every silver serving dish

and platter of slabs of perfectly carved turkey

show up before me

Such a day I think

Now where's the gravy

I have stuffing begging

with outstretched arms

to be drowned in thickened rapture

Barry G. Wick