Happy Thanksgiving

We talked about death over the mashed potatoes.
He reminisced about Grandfather's soft feet in between bites of cranberry sauce.
She disclosed Aunt's latent paternal resentment with a hand full of dinner roll.
When we argued over the exact date of his passing, no one ate anything.
But when the date was decided: August 14, 1999, forks and spoons were promptly lifted.
Mouths were full of candied yams and morbid stories and yet,
We wished all a "Happy Thanksgiving!"