A Family Thanksgiving
Weekly Scribblings #44: Eye of the Hurricane
Campbell to my right, red faced
Conrad to the left
Me, a captive audience
The eye of the hurricane
🦃 🦃 🦃 🦃 🦃 🦃 🦃
I’m always seated between them,
my brothers causing the mayhem.
Cam to the right,
left sits his brother.
I’m trapped in my chair by the turkey.
The one on the right being smirky.
Campbell’s face is as red
as the cranberry spread…
from our mother.
Insulting voices get heated.
Campbell’s angry, and just won’t stay seated.
Conrad keeps his poise.
Foul words Campbell employs…
I wish I were anyplace other.
“Shut up,” shouts my niece, “Uncle Cam,”
“you’re begging a face full of yam!”
This goes on every year
and it’s totally clear, it’s Thanksgiving…
just like any other.
But, I'm always asking them why,
as Cam flings a seasoned thigh,
am I always the one,
every dinner bar none,
to sit in the eye...
of the hurricane?
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