Thursday, November 23, 2006

After the Turkey

We sat sated in the den
ready for pie; but not quite
needing to sit a bit, settle our
bloated tummies, because
it was after the turkey,
after the rolls, after the potatoes,
the gravy, cranberries,
the vegetables, the stuffing,
the bounty of the feast we call
Thanksgiving, when seconds
become thirds, and the eye is
bigger than the stomach,
and eating is expected
Because cooking is love
and love is eating all of it
and we sit quietly, letting
the tryptophan do its thing
slowly easing the day
and making us ready
for dessert


November 23, 2006 18:27
After the Turkey


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 33,930+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

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