Thanksgiving Poem

Being Thankful For Simple Things

Not much to say about me. I am the summation of all the people who have influenced me. Parents immigrated from the Soviet Union during the Stalin era, to Persia (Iran), and after 16 years (having come to know the then Shaw of Iran who would visit for my grandmother's fresh baked bread), then immigrated to the US through the Tolstoy foundation and got to know Tolstoy's daughter. I was born in east Los Angeles, and as life would have it, lived a familiar life and now am working toward retirement.

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Published: November 2017

The wind pushes down the road, a warm breeze
just warm enough.
Thank you for a word...a whisper.
So many colors surround, leaves falling, carpeting a soft path.
Thank you for a life of memories, so full and bright.
A time of transition, neither summer nor winter,
a time of rest,                             
a moment to contemplate.
Thank you for your patience, at times undeserved.
A thought, a subtle gesture,
a warm fire, an ever dimming light,
a time to gather together.
Thank you for being summer, and I winter,
yet we always meet in the fall.


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