Here are two poems which felt, to me, appropriate for the week of Thanksgiving -- found via the ever-wonderful Poets.org (At the Common Table: Poems for Thanksgiving). Neither of these are Thanksgiving poems per se, but they spoke to me this week; perhaps they will speak to you, too.

Little Prayer in November

by Lee Rudolph


      That I am alive, I thank
      no one in particular;
and yet am thankful, mostly,
although I frame no prayer

      but this one: "Creator
      Spirit, as you have come,
come again", even in November,
on these short days, fogbound.



Home
 
by Bruce Weigl

I didn't know I was grateful
            for such late-autumn
                        bent-up cornfields

yellow in the after-harvest
             sun before the
                        cold plow turns it all over

into never.
            I didn't know
                        I would enter this music

that translates the world
             back into dirt fields
                         that have always called to me

as if I were a thing
              come from the dirt,
                          like a tuber,

or like a needful boy. End
             Lonely days, I believe. End the exiled
                           and unraveling strangeness.