I express my thankfulness in halting words.
For the sink full of dirty mugs,
a floor needing to be swept,
a calendar marked not by 24 hours
but by intervals between laughter.
Gratitude, countless collected atoms
marking where my world begins and ends,
untunes the science into song.
We gathered around to sing, expressing
feeble notes, feasting, friends.
I am grateful for the hard grace.
For steadfast sharpened iron
extended with the right hand of fellowship.
Friendship grown from faithful words,
and laughter over where we’ve traveled.
I reflect with perfect revision
the repetition of each moment.
Each washed plate, a story shared.
Every person brought here, then,
now, each inextricably tied with others.
An even twelve pages are all that lie
between this chapter and the next.
I want to read slower, to savor each word
but my eyes are confined by seasons.
So the page turns, and I read.