my grandmother
in South Philly,
chasing
the turkey with a sharp
hatchet
in her small
hand.
in circles they would
go around
the pear tree,
until one or the other
wore
themselves
out.
usually, her.
and the turkey would
come over
to comfort her.
it was quite
a show,
but i'd close my eyes
when she
got his neck,
at last on the chopping
block.
i already had dibs
on a leg.
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