POEM

there is much to be thankful for in life, it’s said.

your heart knows how to heal itself, may well be.

time heals all loss, if, of course, you keep on

loving, and let it be, let it be. only, in trying so,

maybe you could be thankful every day and truly

mean it, I suspect you could muster gratitude as

you would a flower stuck into a wartime bayonet. 

you and I could look each other in the eyes, so to

speak, new words. we could speak of the humans

all around us and how we really do know that they

are not that different than us, only, give your love.

(lately, I’ve been thanking at night and in the morns,

most aware of my actually loving, when I could

have fallen over in exertion of the day, or just some

how, passed in my sleep, peacefully, as they say...) 

if I listen to all the so many people I love, who love

me back, I do assume: I can hear thankings for our

being together when we can be, so thankful to be

not as alone as we could possibly be, if we did not

have family, friends, the kind neighbor, those who

care. and so, in caring back, or forward, we reach 

out our hands all life long. and, often, another one

hand takes it in stride, and says, pleased! and, I 

am. Thanksgiving reminds me of every one person

I have ever loved. they loved me in return, best as 

they could. thankful. thank full. thanks, with all my

full heart....