Joseph P. DiMino Poet Free verse

Thanksgiving

My ceiling fan has 4 blades.
It is a good mover. Cooling
while dispersing; driving out
the old allowing for cleaner,
more breathable replacement.
Inhaling comfortably, I think
of all that went into such a
marvelous invention.  My parents'
fans were, open doors and windows. 
Wet sheets hung from the upper 
casements; and with a little breezy 
help from nature, they survived those 
very hot Midwest, suffocating evenings.
They survived the dust and disease. 
They survived the lean crops and
bloody wars.  They respected
each other, keeping their love
strong and sacred.  They did
without so that I could attend
school, later to have all the
luxuries our present prosperous
era has to offer.  The framed degree, 
on my office wall is often a focus of my
attention. My name in bold Italics.  
But I always read aloud the invisible 
credits: Mom, Dad, and the grace
of God.

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Valsa George August 26, 2025 at 8:47 PM I love this warm expression of gratitude to your parents and God. This is how most of our parents lived. They had very humble facilities compared to the modern amenities, we enjoy. Whatever they could have had also, they set aside to provide greater comfort for their children. Beautifully written, dear Joe. Joseph P. DiMino August 27, 2025 at 5:41 AM Hi Valsa; actually it is my wife's humble beginning history. She became a school teacher, a great artist, musician, skin-diver, pilot; traveled the world; a marvelous spiritual healer and mystic occult enlightened tutor. Not enough room here to list all her achievements.

Victor Buhagiar August 26, 2025 at 3:01 AM Old days different ideas. Yet the new brings problems too. Joseph P. DiMino August 26, 2025 at 3:21 AM Hi Victor; as long as problems exist with the heart of man, the outer world will remain a like image. Thank you, my friend.

Gershon Wolf August 25, 2025 at 7:19 PM Love that ending, Joe. The complete truth. ~ Semper fidelis, gw Joseph P. DiMino August 25, 2025 at 7:32 PM Thank you, Gershon; so important for children to have dedicated, loving parents. Sadly lacking in today's society.

sara Etgen-Baker August 25, 2025 at 5:58 PM Our fans, too, were open doors and windows until 1967 when my folks had a/c installed. Your words about your parents are ones I share with mine...utiltarian folks who survived so much. Loved this poem, Joe. wishing you a pleasant evening, sara Joseph P. DiMino August 25, 2025 at 7:08 PM Hi Sara; thank you. Actually, it was my wife's, Ila's, history. Her family were Midwest pioneers. When she walked to school, as a little girl, at times she would have to lay flat on the ground to keep her legs, only dresses for girls back then, from being cut by the wind driven sand. She grew up to have several college degrees, music and art. Taught grade school and university. How she chose a dummy like me, is yet a mystery. She was a real cowgirl, square dancing on horseback...she can entertain you for hours with marvelous true life stories. Her uncle owned a trading post. Russell would come in and trade paintings for supplies. Stored in the post's upstairs space, they were all lost in a fire.

Anne-Lise Andresen August 25, 2025 at 6:42 AM - We often forget to be grateful for the "little" things, Joe :) - We don't need a ceiling fan... it never gets that hot :) - hugs Joseph P. DiMino August 25, 2025 at 7:13 AM True. Many modern conveniences we could live without...would maybe be better off. As the song goes, "Little things, mean a lot" -- Thank you, Anne.