A Real Turkey?

All the while turkeys are marching noisily to their doom, leaves are smoking their way skywards, worms are retreating from the chill topsoil, squirrels are hiding from the cruel, cold world, and the woebegone birds are fleeing to Florida for the season.

And we who remain should be thankful, while we eat turkeys that were sold at a supermarket in little frozen bundles. We sit in our rooms, where once the wild gobblers stalked wild berries and where wild Indians stalked early Americans.

The Indians are gone, the turkeys are gone, the Pilgrims are gone, and soon, too, will another year. With a little more time, we, too, may soon be gone. So be thankful.