Cookie trays unused
(they’re not mine;
guests leave them
every year; some
I return, some
are forgotten, one’s
a tray holding
last year’s poinsettia)
The house is too clean
The leftovers are foods
We always eat but
The wishes are there
Calling out over the wire
and wireless
Happy Solstice
The vaccine is coming
The New Year is coming
The Light is growing
We are grateful
Our voices are here