Heartburn And Happy Harvest

Heartburn

Heartburn from a fast-eaten

fast food breakfast croissant

tied and bound my chest.

I drove one-handed,

through rush hour traffic,

cell phone on speaker,

trying to call the boss,

to tell him

I was going to

be late again.

Adjusting the volume

on the CD player

and holding a hot

coffee on my lap,

I thread

between two cars

in a quick

lane change.

Damned crazy drivers!

Wake up I am coming through.

Who goes

the speed limit

in the slow lane anyways?

If I am any later

I am going

to be in trouble again.

It is time for a smoke

and the scream of brakes.

If I get

in a wreck

at 75 mile an hour,

heartburn will be the least

of my worries.

HAPPY HARVEST

Hundreds of years ago, began the tale, Ancestors of Americans, Pilgrims, and Indians from a wood's trail, Paraded out a feast, grown with their hands; Yielded from the bounty of the land. Having toiled throughout the year, Americans still sit and dine, Reveling in holiday cheer. Vined grapes were squeezed to make the wine. Elsewhere at soup kitchens they stand in line, Some have no family or friends of their own, Thankful not to have to be hungry all alone.