November frost is filling the air.
There's a feeling of optimism
so thick you can sink
your teeth into it,
the taste filling your
mouth with cold, sweet juices.
You're just a small thing
and you don't know of the world's ways yet.
There was goodness to be had
and tiny joys that bring comfort and memory
when it's time to look around
at what's come to pass.
Back on that day,
there were some of the great parts of life.
Your father's arm on your shoulder,
celebration on the table
and the universe intact.
Tradition envelops you.
It embraces you.
And while your new yet ancient world is cracking,
and you are old, gray, alone
and watching the stars shatter---
you will think back
on that Thanksgiving day,
be that innocent thing once more
and smile through the haze.
But the frost is gone.
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