Young Writers Project

The month

(ish) 

of time between Thanksgiving

and December 25th

is 

undeniably

the best season.

Everyone is joyous

despite their

close-to-frostbitten noses

here in Vermont.

my family has claimed thanksgiving.

it's our holiday, you know,

the one we do the best,

and so it must be ours. we're joking,

mostly, but it's true we do thanksgiving very well

probably overdo but it's better

in my heart, hope is a quiet thing
a pulse beneath rubble
soft as breath against marble dust.

it doesn't sing
it lingers.
it waits in the cracks where sunlight pools
on mornings the mist forgets to rise.