left a basket of food on our porch
for thanksgiving
one year. i
ran into the house
after delivering my
paper route,
and woke my mother up
from the couch
where she'd been sleeping
since my father
left a year ago.
she started crying when she
saw the basket.
the ham.
the turkey. the potatoes.
the canned goods.
the pie.
it was the first time that
i realized
that not all tears were
about sadness.
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