there are voices calling my name
on the other side of the world
an empty chair
a glass not filled with wine
dark meat with gravy
stuffing with mushrooms
manicotti
and Robert’s famous meatballs and gravy
hot and sweet sausage
broccoli with garlic, lemon and oil
Johnny bought blueberry pie
only I’m not getting a piece
’cause I’m over here
on the other side of the world
quietly finishing a bottle of wine
trying not to think of your voice
the sorrow in the air
fresh flowers don’t quite kill the smell
of disappointment
regret
another year gone by
that empty chair
that bottle of wine unopened
ice cream melting on a plate
Al Martino singing love songs
George serving salad
and you sliding food onto my plate
the cat under the table
my hand reaching across
space
grabbing nothing
grabbing air
on the other side
of the world
Poignant. Again. Repoignant? 🙂
Thanks, Jim, again. Rethanks?
🙂
Poignant is the word. Happy Thanksgiving, Leonard.
Thank you. Enjoy the day.
Truly Timeless – the art of gratitude when what we’re most thankful lies beyond our reach – such is True Thanksgiving. Thank you, Leonard . . .
Thank you, Peter.
Sweet memories are made of this Leonard. Happy Thanksgiving.
Leslie
Thank you, Leslie. Hope the day is filled with sweet memories for you.
It is indeed, thank you…
the feast days are often the hardest. Love this poem
Thank you, Maureen.
I seem to remember this poem, wanting to open that bottle of wine, and Johnny with blueberry pie that you don’t get to taste. I make a blueberry pie that challenges all others. Wish I could send you a slice.
Happy Thanksgiving and all other holidays.
Yes, it’s my Thanksgiving poem posted again. And thanks for the offer of your blueberry pie. My brother Johnny always remembers it is my favorite.
I’m going on a pie bender soon. I froze summer blueberries, cherries & peaches. Soon I’ll make them into pies, eat one and freeze the rest!
Now that’s a plan.
Excellent poetry Leonard… I really felt that!!
Thank you, Suzy.
Reblogged this on Leonard Durso and commented:
And so, once again, my Thanksgiving Day poem