On This Hand, Many

I can’t start today – nor this week,
not this year! It’s twelve days
’til Thanksgiving, and family’s coming
from four states! Aunt Bessy would die
if I turned down her cheesecake!
The next week I host the reception,
and the whole month’s full. You know
how I love peppermint fudge!
And Old Mrs. Tyler will bring macaroons,
stand there while we each try them,
tell us they just didn’t work this year,
and expect us to deny it. Taffy and eggnog,
dressing and gravy, champagne to Auld Lang Syne —
think of the people who'd feel hurt if I start now!
So you see, I just have to tolerate it, then tackle
this weight – and twenty pounds more.
I've so many reasons not to rush, to not be
so rash. I owe it to all of them not to ruin the season.
What do you mean, what do I owe myself?