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