Those Engineers

Tiny, twisting, turning river,
Shining on my window pane,
Changing course with every shiver
Of a gusty, driving rain.
Courses that reflect the history
Of the miniscule terrain,
Each meander is a mystery
Tantalizing and arcane.
To make this river turn about
And run straight down like baby's tears,
Would easier be than to straighten out
The Army Corps of Engineers.