Thanksgiving in Hannah’s Kitchen


Aromas, spicy and strong,

emit themselves from the depths of Hannah’s kitchen

where she busies herself with tasks no one will notice:

potatoes peeled, cranberries washed

and flour swept from the floor after making pies.

Members of her family offer their help

but Hannah finds them useless

like the cold, dead turkey she pats dry.

She fills the bird with stuffing and rubs him with oil,

massaging the skin as if it were a former lover.

She reflects on by-gone days and her early escapades

into the promises and promiscuity of youth.

She glances around the kitchen,

embarrassed by the direction her mind has gone;

just one more reason she is glad to be alone.

She tends to the turkey once again,

preening him like a groom before his wedding.

It startles her when his legs become untucked,

as if wanting to stand up, just once more, in the shallow pan.

Meticulously she binds them—tighter this time

then shoves the whole damn turkey into the oven.

While attending a poetry session at a Writer’s Conference a few weeks ago, we were challenged to write a poem about someone’s kitchen, but not our own. We were to make it feel like a nesting spot for the subject. We were to incorporate the words “tenderly”, “into the oven” and “dead”; and introduce someone new—real or imaginary—halfway through the poem. In the last sentence, we were instructed to use a word we wouldn’t ordinarily use (guess which one that is)! This is the result of that challenge, and also my response to today’s one-word prompt: Nest

Image source: Pinterest

11 thoughts on “Thanksgiving in Hannah’s Kitchen

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