why not?

my thanksgiving poem

Always i have felt blessed to be
born into this life. Still, I
can't make sense of it, the great lot i have been
dealt. There are the little things -
eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
for dinner, drinking coffee with lots of milk,
getting a $10 massage at the nail salon,
having a seat on the subway, living in a neighborhood with
Italians and their pizza but those are
just the sweet extras, blessed is having the
kind of mother that is your best friend and teaches you that
love is bottomless; it's having a father that always
manages to find the balance between loving you like his little girl but
not forgetting that you are his grown daughter, it's
owing your childhood to the brother who unfailingly
protected you even if he begged you to be
quiet most of the time, it's the sister you didn't know to wait for with the
red hair, who has the wisest words and the greatest
sense of family, who loves your brother. Being blessed is having
the love you talked about always wanting but never finding
until it was all there, more than you had thought possible and you proudly
vowed to always love your husband fully and with your
whole heart, which means being thankful for yourself too and celebrating
xmas with your loving new family and their meatballs. But who could forget, sweet
Yibby and the tenderness she brings to our lives? What more could i ask for?
Zilch.

Although i would like a puppy of my own.