LAST night I got to thinking, when I couldn't go to sleep, Of the way Thanksgiving served me in the days when joy was cheap -- Of how we'd have a turkey, and of how I'd beg a taste Whenever they would open up the oven door to "baste" The bulging breast, and how then from the oven came a drift Of tantalizing odor, such as only boys have sniffed. I got to thinking of it -- for I couldn't go to sleep -- Of mince pies in the pantry, where I'd sidle in and peep, And jelly and plum butter, and the peach preserves and cake -- And then I got to thinking of how fine 'twould be to take A trip back to the old days, when the dancing candle light Played pranks with all the shadows on the wall, Thanksgiving night. The boys I used to play with! I could shut my eyes and see The whole troop of them waiting and a-waving hands to me; All freckled, ragged trousered, with their scarfs and mittens, too, They made a splendid picture -- but the picture wasn't true; For they've grown up, as I have, and strange paths have lured our feet -- The paths that find To-morrow, and that never, never meet. I wondered if they also were not lying half awake And thinking of the turkey, and the jelly, and the cake; And if they had their fancies of the lazy little street That leads beneath the maples where the topmost branches meet -- And suddenly I heard them -- heard the mur murs low and clear, That told me they were with me, and were very, very near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: ALMA BELL TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: YEE BOW by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LAST JUDGMENT by JOHN CROWE RANSOM |