Thanksgiving Memories

Cold weather, warm house, unusually warm, holiday illusion,
but lovely nonetheless marking the entrance,
into my Aunt's house with two little dogs, one black, one white
barking one angry, one dying for attention.
My father hates small dogs but they love him,
a hilarious irony worthy of once a year,
they harass him endlessly.
My Aunt drinking red wine as she is cooking,
looks flushed but happy, yelling at the dogs,
in a small kitchen with patio doors,
fogged in an endless cloud, crawling out
like angel wings.
The elements worthy of a celestial denoting,
on this turkey day, on this family day.
Family day.

Football game stirring mostly male movement in the den,
my cousins beating on each other,
lovingly I might add,
but still a wonder their biological existence continues.
Fighting quakes make the floor shake
and the smiles along the portraits,
slowly begin to sneer.
Matches the adults face nearby, who try to converse,
after not seeing each other for limits, upon limits.
The oven, a condensed inferno,
spreads heat across the table, my father asks to
open the patio door, he always takes initiative,
its blazing warm.

People gather around quickly once the food emerges,
especially the stuffing, we all love that stuff.
There are some blessings, some loving talk, but food rules,
plates are passed, plates are passed, plates are passed,
plates are passed, plates are passed, plates are passed,
porcelain time glass swirling, pretty soon time is over,
there are turkey cookies they are coveted gloriously,
conversation is now at a minimum.

Soon it will be over now,
turkey, stuffing, bad announcing, poor football,
all things added, all things removed.
Holidays remind sternly,
the necessity of memory
and the importance of family.