Too many years now in the past,
awakening to a feast's fragrance
and the sound of kin folk gathering
as final leaves desert the trees.

The battle fought 'most every year
to keep "pluckers" from an early sampling
of turkey or some favorite dish
with resultant slap of hands and laughter.

At last the gathering around
the adult as well as children's tables
while Grandpa offered up our thanks
in that still remembered deep bass voice.

Then eating while we talked
of subjects varying wide
politics, a friend's new child
I'd sit and listen off to the side.
--------
Now I'm at the table's head
All the older ones passed by
leaving me here in their stead
Before giving thanks I sigh

Where went all those bygone days
that left behind such memories?
They're hidden now within time's haze
soon to leave with winter's breeze.