Thanksgiving Traffic

By Amy E Hall (author of several poetry chapbooks and collections found at East Side Story)

Three miles in an

hour and a half –


interstate congestion and

stomach indigestion,

angry drivers with

hungry kids, no

exit in sight, and

no explanation.

Arrivals delayed;

hugs and hand-

shakes on hold;

dinners postponed.

It was easy to get

irritated and impatient,

until we saw

the white sheet

on the ground.

Suddenly, we were

thankful for the

fume-filled air that

we were breathing.

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Judith December 27, 2012 at 6:49 am

Really a great poem. A good reminder for all of us.


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