Gratitude

12:20pm, early afternoon,
fourth Thursday of November,

that special day,

really the best day,

say thanks to whomever,
whatever gives you hope
and happiness,

they revere the new child,
from grandmother on down,

they rest,

they relax,

they give direction to
let relatives who know
not the twisted, hilly
streets of the capital city,

and the same kinds of
events are probably
occurring in homes
between Calgary and
Expressway, Washington
and Twenty-Sixth,

the infant daughters
are chewing on their
dresses,

the families are discussing
a set of murderous events
that massacred sixty percent
of a family's children,

a father's musing about
how life has been good
for him as the dogs run
in circles on the blue rug,

he says thank silently to
something or nothing
outside of him,

life could be horrifying
but it's not,

life could be simple
but it's not,

and gratitude is sometimes
the toughest thing to give
to somebody or anybody,

do it anyway,

be thankful!

Reviews

[.]

~ extremely poignant and perceptive poetry, monsieur kenneth... a slice of life that you bring to life very well...

[Kenneth The Poet]

thank you again, as always.

[.]

~ you're very welcome, monsieur...

[kublakhan27]

Another nicely-put slice of philosophy, well done.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thank you, Khan. This is more a slice of life in my part of the world right now.

[kublakhan27]

Not a problem; I can understand where you're coming from on this one...