Mountains of dirt stained snow
Litter the parking lots in front
Of quiet strip malls stripped
Of their wares as weary eyed
Customers dissatisfied with their
Tinsel and hope try to give back
What has been generously given.
Rain that has frozen over night
Stretches itself out on the road
Waiting to sabotage its next victim.
The joy has left with Auld Lang Syne,
But the cold still hangs low,
Leaving us to try and warm our freezing toes.