The mighty bird's a shambles,
Its bones picked clean and bare.
What's left of Mamma's homemade pies
Is sealed in Tupperware.
The table in the dining room
Will never be the same;
A leg is bent, one leaf's askew,
It groans, remembering.
Because of Mom's expenditures
Dad says we're close to broke.
It would appear the festive air
Has gone right up in smoke.
The family pets have slunked way
The children ceased their pranks.
In short the household's tuckered out
From all that "giving thanks!"
~ Joyce Klatt
No comments:
Post a Comment