one of those shortlong nights

it is early
the house is quiet but
for a dripping faucet and
jack's uneven breathing and
cats stalking each other
and other imaginary foes

it is quiet
but ere long, clutter will be tidied
then turkey, rolls, massive sweet potatoes and
tiny red potatoes, fruit salad and vegetables
will be roasted and kneaded and candied and
mashed and mixed and beautified

the quiet will be overcome by the preparation--
the tidying into full-blown cleaning
the aromas and the sounds of the feast about to be
and the voices and feelings of the blessed

and after the doing
and the feeling
and the blessed chaos,
comes the peace
and the gratitude
and the quiet.

blessed is the soul who finds and feels the gratitude.