I love the day before Thanksgiving
More than any other day, every year.
I love the way couples compare notes
In the busy parking lot at the local store,
Checking their lists for missing ingredients,
Like cinnamon and dark brown sugar, and cream.
I love the way the kids play with leaping dogs
On their front lawns, worried not the least
About homework or boyfriends or presidents-elect.
And I love the way everyone seems on
Their way home, where they really want to be.
I love the cubed bread on the kitchen counter
That will soon become croutons, tonight,
And then stuffing for one and all, tomorrow.
I love the sweet smell of pumpkin pie
Making its way to my room and my napping soul,
Like incense, the day before Thanksgiving.
Most of all, I love the idea of gratitude,
Not for anyone's billions, or towers named after titans,
But for trees releasing autumn leaves,
And cold November air and all the ways
We make a place our home.
I love the idea that we're all there today,
Believers and seekers, skeptics and cynics,
Wildly liberal and strangely conservative.
I love a world where we give thanks for us.
23 November 2016