Thanksgiving Leftovers
Mo H. Saidi
For Rebecca Brown
It’s three days later and in the evening
she reheats the mashed dressing; the dark
meat gets juicy after I add mushroom broth
and instead of having the noisy football game
on TV, we hear the soft classical music.
Tomorrow we will clean the guest bedrooms
pack the grandchildren’s toys
redact the son’s updated resume
add two more places to the list for him to apply.
Tomorrow we will join the crowd in the mall
we will buy a few trinkets for a daughter
whom we haven’t seen for three years
and a chess-set for the grandson who
at eight practices the endgames, and
an illustrated book for the granddaughter.
A scoop of vanilla ice-cream melts over a slice
of pecan pie. She reads “The Week in Review”
I “A Reporter at Large: Nightmare Scenario.”
Outside, the dark night has obscured
the live oak trees, the yellow pansies.