A sonnet of loss and growth (entry for The Writer's Cramp contest)
This morning did my boss call me aside
to privately impart his tale of woe.
It seems a new boss hired from outside
had closed our project down, and we must go.
He thanked me for my efforts through the years,
and said of all his crew I'd been the best.
Then slowly, eyes awash in friendly tears,
he wandered down the hall to tell the rest.
For two months did I link and search and schmooze,
'til dark despair had turned my hopes to ash.
Then dawned that fateful day, which brought the news,
my interview with Paul had been a smash.
Now I'm the boss and candidly must own
that, absent loss, such growth I'd ne'er have known.