They lean together over the sink,
discussing whether or not to boil
the turkey. I watch from a chair in
the kitchen, a bowl of fruit before me
a cuckoo clock tick-tocking on the wall,
listening as they quietly speak
in voices accustomed to the task of giving.
It is remarkable, this moment,
This comfortable pair unaware of the
Holiness of this, the most mundane of exchanges.

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