holiday spread

A frayed cable
spans the fault
in this bridge;
frigid current
If we go together,
it will break.
If you go alone,
you may not return.
Discussing what
is off the map
begs the question:
what remains?
Maybe I should
toss tradition
off the deep end;
serve myself, trussed.

Izy asked the Real Toads to address our guilty pleasures in a poem. This is Poem #21 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.