A prisoner sits in the dark, tied up by Christmas lights, playing a harmonica.

It is Christmas season
or, more relevantly,
Christmas light season.
I can remember packing them away
very carefully last year
in neat looping coils
but still I sit cross-legged on the floor
unknotting the requisite holiday cheer.
It is not clear yet
if everyone will make it home
but it’s important the house look magical
just in case.

The truth of Christmas light season is
no matter how careful you are
you can never untangle quite all the knots.