New Year Poem by Lycia Harding

At midnight, he'll propose a toast
and raise to them a fluted glass
as they gaze, muted, at their host.

Though his own eye may bring a tear,
he knows theirs will stay dry, en masse,
as they ring in the coming year.

That he alone bears witness to
this cheerless savoir-fair, is clear.
In lonely minds, such peers debut

but camaraderie, at most,
is retrospect to spirits. Here,
where every guest is but a ghost,

at midnight, he'll propose a toast
that he alone bears witness to...