Small signs of hope in the coming apocalypse: 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
