Discounting Time

Today I could unfurl my sails
and surf the net, lonely,
in and out of waves of storefronts
boasting 10 percent off this, 25 percent
off that, buy one/get one, or land a
free phone with a two-year contract.

Today only.

If only today I could open our front door
to the rush of friends and relatives who
blew in Thanksgiving afternoon; our
King Arthur table stretched to an oval
with five leaves that held all the
boisterous rollicking of the pop-up
party as we laughed over stories,
debated the politics of slavery, and
read aloud notes of gratitude penned
in green on beige paper hand cutouts.

Then only.

If stores could then only offer us 25 percent
more time together, instead of tempting us
with stuff to buy and give, that's a cyber
deal I could jump on and ride; instead of
these cyber Monday blues, today we might
again cook together, swap recipes, hike the
local trails with our canine friends, and play
the silly games we had planned to, but for
which time ran out before the night was done.

If only.