Ode to Thanksgiving

Burnt butternut acorns roast
The night fills with
a dark, desperate miasma.

No toasted coconut
nor cinnamon swirl
only bark colored starvation.

Inedible haystacks mold
as Chicken of the Woods turns
Angel Wings and

returns us to dust.

Photo attributed to https://www.flickr.com/photos/sheila_sund/

Advertisements

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s