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Grammy's tablecloth
Mother's china
Dad's carving knife
still with us
every Thanksgiving
This poem first appeared in Songs of Eretz (November 24, 2017).
Used here with permission.
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Lauren McBride finds inspiration in faith, family, nature, science, and membership in the Science Fiction & Fantasy Poetry Association (SFPA). Nominated for various awards, her work has appeared or is forthcoming in dozens of speculative, nature, and children's publications. Lauren lives in Texas, where she enjoys swimming, gardening, baking, reading, writing, and knitting scarves for troops.
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jamvan:
thumbs up :)
Posted 11/25/2021 12:04 AM
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KinVT:
Your poem illustrates perfectly the, sometimes difficult to explain, distinction between poetry and prose : the depth of human emotion expressed, and elicited, in sparsely described but perfectly chosen - words/images. Thank you & have a wonderful Thanksgiving
Posted 11/24/2021 10:28 AM
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cork:
I love the fullness of brevity!
Posted 11/24/2021 09:04 AM
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Larry Schug:
I have a beautiful crockery mixing bowl of my mother's. It is a holy experience when my hands occupy the same space that hers did. This short poem lifts me up and carries me away.
Posted 11/24/2021 08:13 AM
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MLove:
Me-Maw's green salad. Not sure any of us really like it, but it just wouldn't be Thanksgiving without it!
Posted 11/24/2021 08:13 AM
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KevinArnold:
Oh, as a lover of brevity Im smitten.
Posted 11/24/2021 07:40 AM
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albin:
Thanks for this gentle reminder to value life. We (I) so often forget this fact. Reminded me of this line from Moby: "Hold onto people, they are slipping away". But here you point to a way of healthy acceptance.
Bravo !
Albin (Pariiii)
Posted 11/24/2021 07:35 AM
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