Skip to content
It is the last Farmer’s Market before the feast.
Grab a handful of herbs before the Sage is gone
Like grandma looking down from some cloud like so much data.
Her apron and old wooden spoon, her recipes and china help Mom carry on
Family traditions and regional distinctions so we know we belong.
We bury the dead and feed the living and call it Thanksgiving.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
