’Twas the season of cuffing, and from coast to coast,
All the singles were pairing, or so Facebook did boast.
The Instagram filters selected with care,
No moment did pass without photos to share.
The duos they nestled all snug in their sweaters,
And hoped no friend thought, Well, she could do better.
Soon home they all went, to regress and be fed,
Fingers crossed that their parents would let them share beds.
And me in my flannel and mittens and scarf,
On a bus full of couples so cute I could barf.
Bound thusly for home, I focused on cheer,
On mom’s turkey and latkes and great pumpkin beer.
I arrived right on time, with laundry in tow
And approached the front door as it started to snow.
But some memo I missed, that a date was required,
Each sibling — plus one — was sat warm ‘round the fire.
My ’sis and her beau did cuddle and kiss,
As if off in their own little bubble of bliss.
And brother, too, did bring someone home,
They met over lattes, both non-fat, no foam.
“Still single?” Mom asked, her voice a bit sad,
“Have you tried online dating? I hear it’s not bad.”
“I’ll try it," I said, and at that she did smile,
As, gleam in her eye, she wrote my profile.
On JDate we posted, on Tinder and Match,
Mom looked through each one, to help spot a catch.
On Coffee Meets Bagel, and also on Hinge,
There went the night’s plans for a Netflix binge.
Messages rolled in, and at first I was flattered,
But no one said anything much that mattered.
I answered the ones that were cute, sweet, or flirty,
And blocked all the ones that were straight-up dirty.
Back in the city, I went on some dates,
Not bad, but also, not future mates.
On New Year’s Eve at a bar, I watched people mingle,
And realized that right now, I’d rather be single.
So I thought to myself, as I danced into the night:
“Happy cuffing to all,” and to Mom, I’m all right.