The waning year abridges days,
The trees grow bright with red and gold
Inside, the hearths with logs ablaze
Dispatch the looming cold.
Some dear ones, dear the more for care–
Contagion rends the world in parts–
Today sit elsewhere as we share
The feast of thankful hearts.
Our longing for the ones not near
Weighs spirits down for but a phase:
The shadows of the closing year
Spring on to brilliant days.
For now while troubling times may try,
A smaller table we have set,
With festive fare, we pile it high,
And banish all regret.
Prevailing over ills incurred,
Our joy to rise, despair interred,
Our thanks for every gift conferred,
And not one hope deferred.
Photo credit: Sasha Prasastika, pexels.com