What are you thankful for?
A question asked every year, mostly on just one day
Some say we should think about this everyday
But somehow, life always seems to get in the way
Thanksgiving is happiness and laughter
It’s a warm cozy feeling
The air is crisp and the food is ready
You sit around the table and say thanks
I’m thankful for my family
I’m thankful for my life
I’m thankful for your laugh
I’m thankful for my friends
I’m thankful for my home
I’m thankful for my pets
I’m thankful for me.
This is an unexpected Thanksgiving poem. If you had started it with the SECOND stanza I would have reacted to it as a conventional poem - a List Poem, an inventory of discrete objects in your life. It's the opening stanza which adds an unusual attitude: it's a searching, quizzical attitude toward the repetition implicit in a holiday. You seem removed from the holiday spirit, wondering where and how you fit in. And your response seems to be - I'll dive right in and make the most of its spirit. And so you do - in the rest of the poem. But the wariness of that opening stanza lingers in my mind. I think this poem will haunt me as I sit in my twin sister's house surrounded my nephew and nieces, and their spouses and children, and the holiday runs its accustomed course.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Leah's sister, maybe..? HAPPY Thanksgiving to you all!