Happiness is a thing to be practiced, like the violin.
Gathered along gray stems like family
Clustered together waiting for Thanksgiving dinner,
Like groups of homeless in hodgepodge wraps standing
In the prickly cold cheerfully awaiting a festive meal,
Like swarms of school children crowding excitedly in lunch line,
Like knots of friends chatting and laughing
Assembled in a church hall for a special meal together.
Fall berries keep company, busy, buzzing, raising the sound
Of happy soon-to-be coming get-togethers
Stop at the fenceline and gather for your heart's sake
Some of these berry boughs
To brighten those days ahead.
And to welcome the holidays home.