Omicron 2022

Hogmanay cam an went
wi the usual bells an fustles
TV music gied laldy tae the win,
an a puckle bodies louped
an skirled wi computer faces
lookin on ower the wire.

It wis naethin forbye.

But naebody wis bothert
haein places tae gang
an faimly an fowk tae see
jist nae glaiket hoolies
an nae reelin stocious
fae howff tae first-fit;
nae blootert cowkin
in the sma hoors
on the back-stairs.

Nae need tae cross a line
nae need for traiveling
mair than needfu -
thon wis a dreich nicht
ane for bidin hame
wi drams an guid company.

An we nivver myndit the smit,
fa’s hoast wad gar ye boak -
an faa’s gaun tae tak a taxi sooth
jist for the sake o’t?

Ower far fae here,
ower far fae heilan ben
or farrer isle.

Nah, it wis fine tae sit
an see the new year in
withoot takkin a scunner.

Naebody telt us ‘no’;
and hame wis the best refuge
efter aa…

© BH, 2022

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Written in response to a Poetry UK post - a poem suggesting Hogmanay was 'banned' in Scotland. Seemed a bit biased.

I posted this to just set the record straight. Went down OK, I think…