The turkey was tender,
The sun staked its claim
The stuffing was saged,
On the TV, no game.
The children were quiet
The mood still, like the air
Nothing much said,
No one pulled up a chair.
The stories welled up,
Christmas songs locked away
Silence normally unsettling,
Echoed unspoken fear on this day
The innards were tainted,
Secrets stuffed like the bird
Something so raw-years past wine
May have purged?
Still the quiet was as real as the stars up above
Even in the silence
All around, there was love