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Thanksgiving poem

My tiny apartment with many guests.
Today I'm remembering the mid-80s, when I hosted several Thanksgivings for 30 or more people. Everyone in the building made food. The years when Maggie had to be at work at 3, we called dinner for noon. We were late-night folks then & I remember sleepy guests & undercooked capons & chili.

I guess my holiday tradition these days is posting this poem, which I love & "stole" years ago from a friend's email, making few changes beyond line breaks. We're not friends anymore—this is the last thing I still like about him.

Thanksgiving Almost Found Poem

Many years we go to my grandmother's in Virginia.
My mother, father, aunts and at least two of my brothers are there.
My son has a football game that morning.
My daughter is home, but needs to get back to school this weekend.
My wife doesn't want to ride for nine hours and turn right back.
Sometimes I have gone alone, but not often.
A couple of neighbors were vying for our company.
One of those my daughter’s boyfriend’s family,
Which we did last year and had fun.
But this year it will be another family,
One we have visited on two or three other Thanksgivings.
I have a turkey freezing in the garage.

Nothing to do with it.
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