Thanksgiving

Eighteen eider ducks

are swimming in the sun

from Vineyard Haven’s harbor

on their lighthouse run

underneath our dock and by

our bright sand cove

they pause to feed, then spin and

dance in pairs, as if in love

with the freezing winter weather

come too soon: November, first

plunging from Indian summer

to quench some bad god’s thirst.

Sun lures me to the window.

Wind keeps me from the shore,

but eider ducks are waltzing

to life’s music. Play me more!

— Rose Styron