It is the week before

Thanksgiving

Already Crepe Myrtle

Has released

Most every small leaf

Attached to her

Ever so skinny branches

To become a coverlet

For the dirt ladened

Ground

 

Sycamore

Has a long way

Still

To finish letting go

Her large leaves

Needing to dry into

Burnished gold

Before they slowly

Fall

In graceful descent

To cover the grass

That surrounds her

Many managing to

Invade

The garden

Where Hibiscus and

Azaleas

Try to bloom

This late in

November

 

We will eat at home

By ourselves

This Thanksgiving

Day

With joyful memories of

Thanksgivings past

Here we will be

Together     together

What more can we

Want

What more could we

Ask

(written November 2021)