“Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul.” – Henry Ward Beecher.
Thanksgiving
Unbound
On an atypically warm Antelope Valley morning,
the llamas blink a declaration of hunger at me
I walk down the dusty, winding trail
surrounded by mountains that remind me of my great inconsequence
It’s Thanksgiving and my dog’s eyes brim with unflinching love
as she accompanies me, untethered, down the path
I’m beholden – we all are – every single one of us,
to those who have embraced us and to those who have pushed us away
Come Again…?
On the heels of Thanksgiving, I thought I’d share what one of my students learned after a few weeks of discussion and study about English settlements.
Before I do – just so you know – most of my students got this answer correct (yes, I’m deflecting responsibility for this student’s response). The correct answer: Pilgrims, Separatists. I can only surmise this student did not study and was probably doodling or talking to a neighbor instead of listening.
Kismet 