THANKSGIVING CABIN

On a small mountain,
Above a lake,
Surrounded by woods,
Was a cabin,
Built by determined hands,
Logs, rocks, patchy concrete,
Deep fireplaces,
A mildew smell in winter,
Terraced gardens,
Everywhere you looked.
That’s where they lived,
And it’s where we went,
Every year,
For Thanksgiving.
We’d tell them about things in school,
Our accomplishments to date,
Everything we were doing.
Sometimes we’d walk a bit,
Or collect some wood.
There was laughter,
The warmth of family,
It felt good.
Being together,
On Thanksgiving.