Thanksgiving has long been the poet’s favorite national holiday because, in midst of the celebrations, people really do remember ~ sometimes ~ to stop for a moment to feel gratitude for what they have.

This sonnet is first in a series of seven inspired by the season.

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Recorded Reading (1:01): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/f2pliixj9iiv5ipa0d02j/Thanksgiving-I.mp3?rlkey=t3ggk3mqf1ey0tq6n2knybaa0&dl=0

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Thanksgiving I

When seen with gratitude, the smallest good
Takes on an estimate of pricelessness
With thankfulness, correctly understood,
We might receive much more, worth, yet, much less

And pay fewer attentions to the small
Frustrations integral to any life
Which insignificant seem, after all,
Compared to many other mortals’ strife

Rejoice, then, in the absence of despair,
If find naught else for which to grateful be —
From a sincere heart, offer up a pray’r
For your existence in serenity

— Whom fate hath not seen fit to paralyze
Exists, already, in a paradise…

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This poet presently lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level.

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