The Day After (Thanksgiving)

What remains after our meal

we sat together as many as could fit I wish there was a way

for everyone even the woman I don’t like down the street

who said  once Can’t You EVER do anything

about  that hair she pointed as though

I needed  visual explanation

I wish everyone could come over

one year Bob Ebers brought his friend from Marseille

to Thanksgiving No One Likes Him Bob said in advance

his friend went home with a woman named Catherine

who knows what happened last night a clear night

of turkey, good intentions, last night

we gave thanks for nights just like these.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Esther Cohen

Let me tell you why I’m here, and why I hope you’ll join me.
I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I’m here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

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