Thankful
There are many things
We can be grateful about,
Even in this topsy, turvy year
Of the historical presidential election,
Injustices of race and environment,
And pandemic.
Sometimes the river flows clearly
Or muddily depending on the weather.
And its history tells the times
Of tumbles, cascades, bends
Depending on the geography.
The muddy river brings armful
Of sediments building a new delta
Down the road with its own view
While reshaping the landscape,
And the Thanks-giving and receiving day
Comes, it’s not a matter of turning
The page of calendar. It has carved a niche
On the historical river of the arrival
Of new combers on strange shores
Creating the oppressors and oppressed.
The long river, sparkly or otherwise
Skirts another day of thankfulness, waking
Up sleep walkers from the ignorance
Of moving heritage.
The sleep walkers change their clothes
And join the new chorus hesitatingly,
But it’s only a beginning.
Love stalks us every turn
Of the long river.
Thanks from an immigrant.
Yenna Yi
****************************************************************************
All we have is what we can give
But I know I can give more
I can give the bows I’ve saved
The cake in the freezer
The man I married too young
The wake and the me sir
The diamonds I’ve earned
And given away the
Allemandes of life
The swing and the sway
The weather and weathered
The sun and the sea
The odd dreams I wake from
The sequences three
The nuts and the candies
I stored in a drawer
The backwards I’ve gone
And also the forward
The pencils I’ve broken
The nickels and dimes
The tryouts, the failures
Surprises like wine
I’d give every freckle, every flaw
Every pore, I’d give
And then give some more
I’d give up my doubts
And my pride and my youth
I’d wrap it all up and I’d
Tie it up quick so you can
Have journeys and not just a peek
And trials and woes
And here—here’s a comb
come back now find the part
To a place they call home
–C. D. Finley