The front and the back porch 

Were both enclosed 
It was the only way the tiny house 
Could hold all those souls 
We gathered together
From near and far
The driveway and yard
We’re filled with cars 
Mamaw was busy
There in cramped kitchen
Dispensing the turkey and gravy
The beans and the wisdom 
The adults were all scattered
Here and there
They chittered and chattered
And filled up the chairs 
The children, like ants
Traversed all free spaces
Back and forth in groups
In all different places 
We headed out to the coal pile
But were forbidden to get dirty
We’d run up and down it
In quite a hurry 
A few of the men
Lit up some smokes
Talked about crops
And the “other folks” 
We’d crunch some leaves
Check on the cows
Then, head back inside
To help ready the chow 
Suddenly, a quiet would descend 
A clear of the throat
A bow of the head
A heavenward “thank you” note 
We’d give thanks for the harvest
Give thanks for the rain
Give thanks for the family
From which we came 
Then came, “Amen!”
And the sitting at tables
A hearty “dig in!” 
The clinking of spoons and ladles 
Turkey and gravy
Mashed potatoes and beans
Rolls and cranberries
Unbutton the jeans! 
After pie and ice cream
Things would slow down
We’d lounge in chairs
And piddle around 
We’d depart after sunset
After games and conversation
Then we’d enter into 
A great hug rotation 
Then came goodbyes
And the quiet car ride home
Thanksgiving is impossible 
To do alone