The Fourth Thursday

by Beth Alexander Walsh

Delicate Bavarian china

presents less formal with

cardboard napkin rings

and turkey salt shakers

in a candle lit house that

is pressed and cleaned.

Charlie Brown runs

to kick off the holidays

but Lucy steals the ball,

and Snoopy flies

through Herald Square,

as we blanket the day

with Bell's Seasoning.

It is the same every year.

Comforting continuity,

gathering us once again

on this fourth Thursday.

Most are still here,

but some we miss,

and we taste their absence

in old favorite recipes.

Still there are others,

missing by choice.

We speak their names,

giving our best

with holiday cards;

acknowledging difficulties

a turkey won't fix.

Yet, our table unites

with too much food,

and our gratitude flows

as freely as the wine.

We toast ourselves and

laugh among the linens,

while saving room for

a slice of cheesecake.

Soon, we wash dishes

and hug our goodbye's.

Tomorrow, with leftovers,

we will digest the memory,

and plan the season ahead.