He’s traveling with stage 4 cancer this year.

Not his first choice of traveling companion I’m sure

Neither is rebellious children or unemployment.

No one sets a place for

bleak prognosis

fear

anxiety.

Doors slam on

loneliness

unfaithfulness

hopelessness

Still they crowd the road on the way

to Thanksgiving.

Unwanted guests who want to be wanted

If only for moment by a band of pilgrims

Not weighed down by light afflictions

On the wide road

On their way home

to Thanksgiving.