Replete with fine China and family silverware,
Dogs snoring underneath,
Ever optimistic for morsels to fall.
The house rich with the aroma of turkey and full of memories.
Ghosts sit around the mahogany table,
I see them in each chair,
Feel their arms embrace us,
See their knowing smiles,
The echoes of their laughter and conversation fill our hearts.
A quiet holiday this year,
Just the two of us,
But we are not alone.
Every taste, every smell,
Every dish, every story,
Brings every Thanksgiving we’ve ever had back to us,
Along with those now gone.
A flavorful, love-filled gift,
Leaving us with tear-splotched cheeks, and grateful hearts.