Thanksgiving

My brain is porous
Just cooked Thanksgiving dinner
This is a haiku

Thanksgiving is This

October is autumn

October is thanksgiving

Thanksgiving for Canadians

Thanksgiving for families

Families celebrating

Families coming together

Together there is joy

Together there is love

Love the weather

Love the leaves

Leaves are turning

Leaves are falling

Falling in love all over again

Falling back for daylight saving

Saving leaves in a scrapbook

Saving memories in an album

Album of music on the stereo

Album of photos on the mantle

Mantle full of heart

Mantle full of art

Art of war

Art of the sale

Sale of the century

Sale of decorations

Decorations for the house

Decorations for the yard

Yard covered in leaves

Yard covered in cobwebs

Cobwebs in my mind

Cobwebs covered in spiders

Spiders on the spout

Spiders on the wall

Wall to wall carpeting

Wall to wall costumes

Costumes cute and creepy

Costumes sexy and scary

Scary faces carved into pumpkins

Scary faces haunting the street

Street flooded with families

Street flooded with fun

Fun for kids

Fun for all

All have waited

All for this

This is Halloween

This eerie night

Halloween

Night

Last minute poem.

A week or so ago I was going to write a beautiful poem about Autumn sights.

 About warm rum butter afternoons and chilled apple cider nights.

I was going to write a cheeky poem about the season of Fall.

Garish lifesaver colors of red, yellow, and orange but deeply rich like the belle of the ball 

I was going to write a hearty poem about the harvest time.

The cornucopia of a farmer's market square with a busker singing folk songs for a dime.

I was going to write about the end of summer and the start of school.

Reluctant adventurers are wrangled indoors and hope they remember how to be cool.

I was going to write a heart-warming poem about Thanksgiving.

We are grateful for the warmth and plenty of the table, and amazed we're all still living.

I was going to write this poem but my inspiration cooled.

Like dry crusty leaves snowing down from the trees my ideas in the gutter have pooled.

My notebook is as bare as the skeleton trees.

Like a chorus of bamboo wind chimes my thoughts also rattle their knees.

The words were as elusive as the last turkey at 4:30 pm Thanksgiving day.

This meal for the mind is all I could scrounge up. It's all I've got to say.