Pass the Gravy

              Pass the gravy

The warmed rolls are nestled;

Swaddled, cozy like chicks

The potatoes, fluffed to precision,

Are heaped… clouds with a buttery glow

Uncle Oscar is unrelenting, “where’d the cranberries go?”

Aunt Rebbie has perhaps sampled? She giddily pours the champagne

The kids are muttering; barely, under their breath

“How come it’s always the same?”

The turkey, perched center, knows not its named fowl

Heaving its burgeoning golden breast,

Oblivious, to its last prowl.

Aunt Jeanie calls out,

Sit! Sit!  It’s getting cold

Where’s Uncle Ernie?…someone calls out in a Yell

Dad’s voice booms “Charlie quit filming son-Hey honey what’s that smell?”….

the comic sheen of family’s company,

Sweetly annoying, like the welcome of a dinner bell