Turkeys: ‘St. Geppetto, Patron Saint of Puppets, pray of us!’ – emorris

I watched the light fall thru the trees
and felt it’s warmth there gracing me
before the bitter winter begins
the breeze for now will embrace me,
and all along the water’s edge,
old oak, spruce, and apple saplings,
struts the wild wise fowl who forage
Toms and hens, the turkeys prattling
with much to say and mostly grumbling
I hear and love their bests and worsts
though for all the nonsense they are mumbling
I smile with my Thanksgiving thirst.


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