Driving Out the Nian

The year is new, and I’ve ought to have dusted and cleaned and swept out the old troubles of yesteryear. Those dust balls have taken home in the closets of my mind, some dark recesses cozy for a beast. A feast for a beast; it likes my festering heart. Send the firecrackers and fireworks and hear them screech and wail. What a cacophony! Does it hear? Out it must come with the blossoming red that flashes it blind. Rent-free it lived in my home until it was time to scare it off, dashing away with its tail between its legs, to usher in some cleaner spirits—come in, come in!