That story always gets to me.
I want to rage against the nine.
How can you have something
so miraculous
bless you
right there
under your very own skin
and not come back
to say thank you?

The ten yelled
“Have pity on us!!”
And when they found themselves healed,
when their skin
became soft and whole,
they rejoiced in wonder
and continued on their way.

Except that one.
That one who first
(before going before the men who could certify him as clean,
who could stamp his identity document with a re-enty visa),
turned back
to say thanks.

On this day
as we gather together to
we sometimes miss
the heart of the matter

And as I stop to give thanks,
I realise
how many times
I have carried on
and not turned back
to say


PAD 28 in November

For today’s prompt, write a gratitude poem.

I feel this poem could use a lot more polishing . . . but I am between a turkey and mashed potatoes and have to run.  And I do have a heart full of gratitude!