We had seven wild turkeys in our back yard this week. We have one we caught at the supermarket in the refrigerator, too. It ain’t Xanadu, but it ain’t quite Dickens, neither.
We are grateful every day for everything we have.
For Mrs. Cottage:
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.