After Thanksgiving
Michael Gollin

Cold rain drops from gray
that was sunny warm before.  
Echos of family reverberate
from now empty rooms. 
Fourteen feasted on love (the  secret sauce),
and filled four cans with refuse. 
After inspiring 
great gulps of guests mornings
and expiring them evenings,
this house resumes its normal
rhythm of breathing people
in and out
One by one.

****