It’s so quiet for this time of year,

No first-footings from our families,

For those lost millions we shed a tear,

We question our own humanity.

Secret house parties face fines,

Most of us will stay inside,

We’ll be sad and whine,

But to save them we will hide.

Think back to Hogmanay past,

Gifts of shortbread and a dram,

Toasting to the very last,

Dancing ceilidh with Uncle Tam.

No steak pie with our friends,

Or resolutions to stick by,

Cannot make amends,

2020 becomes a battle cry.

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A Happy and a safe Hogmanay to all my readers.

Emma.