‘Twas the (on-call) shift on Christmas
A short poem written from the IT on-call trenches on the eve of the holidays as a plea for the year ahead
‘Twas the (oncall) shift on Christmas
and all through the house
no keyboard was clicking
not even the mouse
the trackpad discarded
untouched and bare
eyes gaze on dashboards
a thousand yard stare
All seemed quiet
no alarms, just peace
thoughts turned to the wish
all violence would cease.
