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Just Reflecting
It was just another cold,
wintry, November.
Thanksgiving Day.
Mama was up early,
finishing up her cooking,
baking in her favorite apron.
Grandma,
taking her sweet old time,
lending mama
a helping hand,
snapping them string beans.
My aunts
sitting in the kitchen,
talking about old times.
My uncle,
doing that
old
funky
four corners dance,
popp'n his finger all round,
trying to get someone to
dance with him.
Me and my cousins,
watching the Thanksgiving Day
parade,
with all it's bands,
and colors,
and floats.
Mama would call, and have you
taste this,
or that.
Grandpa made that special eggnog,
with that bottled ingredients.
From the dining room,
the table was spread, with all
the place settings,
the music played loud,
'til Daddy hollered,
"Somebody cut that music in there.
I can't hear myself think!"
My uncle,
still dancing,
not even caring
what his brother said.
Mama would say,
"Now baby, you know this is the holidays."
We'd look out the windows.
There was snow flurries.
We'd say, "Sure is nice being inside,"
hoping mama didn't have to
send you out to the store for anything.
After a while
it was time to eat.
We'd all gather around the table,
hold hands and
say grace. Remembering,
how thankful we all are,
just to be together as a family.
After that last amen, brother, it was on.
Yeah, those were the days.
Everything was warm.
The future was promising.
Lots of good memories.
Well, I guess I'll get on.
Adjusting his collar,
old worn coat,
against the cold winds,
he trudges off
through the cold of November
to a shelter.
With tears in his eyes,
he hears the shelter offer
“Free Thankgiving dinner, today.”
Be thankful for all that you have.
Love your loved ones.
by Taz
Detroit
November
23, 2000
Copyrightã2002
TazTales
All Rights Reserved
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