I've always enjoyed John Keats' "To Autumn," perhaps the only autumn poem with no leaves that have changed color.
So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, here's a similar prompt: write a Thanksgiving poem that stays away from the usual cliches. When I was younger, and wrote "Daughterless Women," I probably thought I was doing that. But as I typed it in, some part of me was horrified at the Thanksgiving cliches (see entry below). But a larger part of me felt fondness for my younger poet self, and so the poem gets to stay on this blog.
But as I prepare for Thanksgiving, I'll be thinking about the kind of Thanksgiving poem I'd write now. Can one write a Thanksgiving poem that isn't trite and traditional?
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