The holiday br is a slow strip; br each piece br glittering; br falling away br to reveal br naked relationships br beneath br our br tantalizing br onion pealing tears br dropping here upon br the table- br turkey and ham laden br swirling holiday music all around. br br I love the music; br the solemnity; br the realizations br that we are all here again; br this year br bound by table legs br and time br constrained by the past we all share; br br the future flies forth, too br our faces at the windows br the past's steamers are in tow br flapping loudly br as we take verbal possession br of our future lives br hoping the loudly flapping past be silenced. br br Why must the past be so much more loud br than the future? br Why must what happened before br always be the loudest horn br we hear? br br We light the candles- br incantations against br those past rubbery years br incense for those future years too; br some of us br trying not to notice br the empty chair; br friend, parent, boyfriend, girl friend or loved one br gone br not there; br br And bravely we raise our glasses and smile br into 'Carry On for Another Year.' br And we do.