Poem: Thanksgiving Lesson

Thanksgiving Lesson

In the end, even the squash
which had sat too long
under the broiler, turning cracked black
instead of a nice bubbled brown
was not the disaster it seemed,
not when care was taken
to scrape away the surface
and reveal what was beneath,
which had remained safe,
had not scorched.  It was,
to be certain, not the same,
was lacking without the crust,
but no one else knew that
and they were sated
by what remained.
They had not expected more,
had not expected even that much.
It was not a disaster at all,
was fine, and everyone enjoyed it all.
Even if it had been worse,
it was only a side dish.
There was so much else.
It would have been fine
without it.  I should learn
to be less concerned
with making it all perfect,
should learn, should think
what matters about it,
what the reasons are
for wanting it to be right.
It did not matter at all
in those dimensions.

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