Thanksgiving and terror of loss
Make all but my love of life dross,
And keep me in mind of the ones who are kind
And all of these just shareable thoughts.
I run to the millpond and wait
For the frogs who will tell of my fate.
Then drag in some tree that has fallen for me
And now slows me down with its weight.
The jays and the crows come to find
Places where once they had dined
Are whitened with cold from a year that's grown old
And to winter's cloak has resigned.
Thanksgiving and terror of loss
Make all but my love of life dross,
And keep me in mind of the ones who are kind
And all of these just shareable thoughts.