Yellow Thanksgiving


The myena bird has streaks of yellow
Like yellow paint has been
Sprinkled on her brown plumage.
Yellow are the bamboos that rise
Towards the sky, holding nothing aloft
Just bowing towards the passing river
In sheer humility. Yellow too, is
The jaundiced moon, shimmering from afar
The bile of light radiating through
Craters, making nighttime a foray into sublime beauty.
Yellow too are the sunflowers that absorb
Nuclear radiation but stand their ground,
A symbol of resistance and will.
Yellow is the pumpkin that is served
As pumpkin pie at the thanksgiving table
That moment in late November
Which translates through the thin
Veil of your skin, when you’re
A disciple of fate, lighting a candelabra,
Knowing, tokens sometimes, are
More priceless, than treasures chests.

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