every empty chair

 

the circles of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is upon us:

I am thankful that I share this time 

with my wonderful spouse and with our wondrous niece,

yet every chair, not used at this table, saddens me,

I miss Aunt Carol, who didn't feel up to coming this time,

and I miss the many we have lost to this world:

Suzanne, Clarence, Johnny, parents, extended family,

the tables here at the Cabin on the Creek

are a physical focus for community building,

where family tie, companionship, good food, come to be shared,

and not just our bodies are nourished, so are our souls,

my memory goes back to being a kid up here,

to having kids up here,

to countless times when my physical and social hunger

were fed, and fed well,

I love to pore over old pictures

and remember all those I've loved

who have circled here for a time,

circles that have held me and them

with hot biscuits and cold tea,

with old familiar courses and new delights for our hunger,

the camaraderie itself fed a hunger that is still with me,

I love our time up here this Thanksgiving,

but every empty chair diminishes the size of the calling of this circle.

by Henry H. Walker

November 29, ‘24