Season's Greetings

For auld lang syne...times shared that have got lost
in hazy memory. What we once knew
has changed, its once clear contours slowly blurred

like an etched line's enlargement: what was sharp
is sharp no longer, softened by the glow
of near-extinguished lights. Old faces lose

their wrinkles and grow plump, and hair turned grey
regains its shine. The furniture will be
the same, slightly less battered; on the floor

the carpet's just a little redder. Then
there may have been untowardness, but now
it's all been filtered down. Remembered speech

is soft and pleasant, with its barbs removed;
the cup's been drained of venom. We'll sit back
and dream off all the chances time's disproved.