Thursday Poem - This Thanksgiving

You don’t have to be grateful.
You could rail against
the injustice of it all and we
would certainly understand.
You could resent the hell out of
this year or your family or your health.
You could be livid about politics
or grieving climate change
or overwhelmed at the thought
of making toast, let alone gravy.

It’s OK. One way or another
the mist will wrap gently around the hills
and crows, sleek and unperturbed,
will manage their secret societies.
However you feel about
marshmallows on yams,
or eating alone, or the family table,
bees bunked tight in their hives
are humming each other lullabies.
Beetles under the leaves
are striding with such assurance
that I can only believe that
they have got this covered,
at least for now.

Lynn Ungar, from These Days