December 17, 2022

She's the river that runs through my life,

The theme I understand

Of tumultuous torrents engulfing my bed,

My desk, wherever the moment lands.

She's the destroyer of all that was good,

The intruder I can't keep out,

As I fix three problems, waiting in a funk

For the fourth one to come about.

She's the shadow that I cannot shake,

The collar I stiffly contain

As my deception betrays the gallery

Who know not how I must refrain.

This month she seemed especially cruel,

A mistress who regularly revealed

Counterparts removed from commands

By fools with egos too big to conceal.

My Christmas may be apprehended

By ghosts I welcomed in,

But I feel the chains a-rattling

Up north of me here in Michigan.