Boxes emptied and bellies full,
we face the lazy aftermath. Thousands
of lights now appear garish, choruses
of hope hollow and trite.
Nothing to do but wrap the remains-
tidings and trimmings, tangled strands
of family tucked in boxes to re-open
like surprises next December.
Tonight we will go on, grow up
and give heave-ho to this last year,
donning paper hats and plastic intentions
(still soon broken for a lesser investment)
and bubble up one last wish
for better everything come January.
(Bonne année tout le monde!)