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This time of the year again

She has gone shopping for gifts to give the young
she would not take me along, knows I would be grumpy
and sarcastic and impatient.
I sat on the plaza with a glass of Chianti, not because I like this wine but because it is the only Italian name I could think of,
A mist of people around me, a crescendo of voices
talking about about a topic they agreed upon, Noel
I unfold the paper “Stalemate in Gaza.” 
It does not ring a bell for the consumers, in the thrall of the glittering street decoration, fake snow, and humbug
We have been invited to a restaurant so grand waiters 
dress like diplomats, call out your name when entering
Our esteemed Senor Hansen from Sweden at table number 12. What! I am not Swedish but never mind
I will get revenge when asking for Alentejo Red Wine
When we come back to the Algarve, it can be cold 
in January, a man will come from the upland with a truck 
of firewood, ready cut and dry.
The only sound we will hear during the festivities are
are the bleating of the lamb

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