moving Thanksgiving, in more ways than one

Having been gone a year,

I transported there to here.

I’d called friends so they’d go

meet me at the bus depot.

I missed Dad by a bit,

off on a short business trip.

I got home, found the key,

let me in, replete with glee.

My mom called from her work,

and I answered, full of perk.

“Rae Nellie?” questioned she,

“She’s in Europe, I’m Sallie.”

“Oh, Rae, now … that is you!

What on earth? Can it be true?”

Mom got home … right away,

passed the limit on that day!

One by one, my surprise

met with startled, joyous cries!

Got a flat for my beau

who was still in Monaco.

I then served customers

food they ordered to ensure

he could join me stateside

where we planned to co-reside.

But a man caught my eye,

an American to try.

I had to disimbue

my love so a call ensued

my covenant to quit.

One thing became explicit.

Though fate caused us to meet,

fate had caused us both to cheat.

What relief as we learned

neither one would now be burned!

I sublet right away

the apartment to friend Gaye.

She was shunned quietly

where we worked. That I could see.

Presently, Thanksgiving

found Gaye, lone and harsh, living

in that pad. I reached out.

Mom and I without a doubt

packed a meal for her sake.

Piled high remnants on a plate.

We packed loads. Not just food.

We added a festive mood.

She was glad we stopped by!

Moving Thanksgiving … Oh, my!