The year was 2013, the month was November, the day was the day before Thanksgiving when I originally published this post. Am I (a) too lazy to write new material (b) too stressed by Covid-19 to be creative (c) having fun looking again at my cyberspace legacy (d) all of the above. Let’s go with (d). I hope you enjoy along with me.
the words she didn’t say
She wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
They stuck in her mind like pavement to gum.
Release me, release me the words cried today.
I’m afraid, she said, as she held them at bay.
We will be heard, they told her with force.
She shook her head to quiet their source.
They rattled around in the core of her brain,
But got up again and began to raise Cain.
Leave me alone, she shouted out loud.
They mocked her and told her they came in a crowd.
So even if caught and turned out to sea,
Others would come and one day be free.
It must be the holidays because I’ve just written a poem with the same meter as ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. Good Lord.
My usually introspective self typically becomes more reflective during the holiday season, and I believe this poem officially crosses the line to brooding. However, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year; Pretty and I once again look forward to making the trip to the upstate to spend an evening with her family in the recreation hall of the First Baptist Church of Fingerville, South Carolina. Even if I didn’t love her family, I’d go to a Baptist Church with that name.
To everything there is a season, and this is the season for being thankful before the madness that is Christmas and New Year’s Day overwhelms us. My wish for each of you is the familiar admonition to count your blessings and name them one by one. And if there are words you want or need to say to someone, set them free.
From our family to yours – Happy Thanksgiving!
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From our family to yours, we are thankful for you. Please be safe and stay tuned.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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