The Old Cabin Home

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #483

Words:  wind, home, gratitude, tender, frill, feed, flow, silver, mince, road, finger, family

Wind slipped through
fingernail cracks
in the old family
cabin home.  Difficult
to find the dirt
road if you are
unfamiliar with this
no-frills area.  Family
noses sniffed out scent
of fragrant turkey, tender 
sweet potatoes, and mince pie.  
Perhaps not as many to feed
this year, but the flow
of silver conversation,
and grandparent's gratitude
was sufficient for all.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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