This is my favorite poem about giving thanks:

Raymond Carver

No other word will do.  For that’s what it was.
Gravy, these past ten years.
Alive, sober, working, loving, and
being loved by a good woman.  Eleven years
ago he was told he had six months to live
at the rate he was going.  And he was going
nowhere but down.  So he changed his ways
somehow.  He quit drinking!  And the rest?
After that it was all gravy, every minute
of it, up to and including when he was told about,
well, some things that were breaking down and
building up inside his head.  "Don’t weep for me,"
he said to his friends.  "I’m a lucky man.
I’ve had ten years longer than I or anyone
expected.  Pure Gravy.  And don’t forget it."

Happy Thanksgiving.

8 Responses to “Gravy”

  1. Cecily Says:

    That’s so awesome… I may have to, um, borrow (steal) this and post it as well. Full credit to you, of course. ­čÖé
    Happy Thanksgiving, my dear.

  2. Scrivener Says:

    Love it! Raymond Carver is the best … and I hadn’t read this one, either. So thanks.

  3. Mieke Says:

    Happy Thanksgiving

  4. jo(e) Says:

    I love this poem.

  5. Josh Miller Says:

    I know it’s about two years after the fact, but I just wanted to thank you for posting this!

  6. Tim McMahon Says:

    Hey, Carver died in 1988 didnt he? Its quite a bit more than 2 years after the fact. lol

  7. Jim Says:

    The peom was posted in 2005. The response was posted in 2007–two years after the fact.

  8. Writers who write about cancer | Juliet O'Callaghan writes Says:

    […] It includes a number of my favourite authors such as,┬áMargaret Atwood; Anne Lamont; Ian McEwan; and this poem by Raymond […]

Leave a Reply

four − = 3