Traffic

Red.
My mind wanders,
Music infects my brain.
The screech of tires
And the hum of engines.
The noise of the world
becomes my playground.

Green.
I don’t notice,
Impatience takes over.
A symphony of horns urge me
To go on with my life.
And reality comes home.

Lines.
They fade together,
They fade with gray.
I think about the summer
When I was ten years old.
I threw a golf ball through the window
And blamed it on my best friend.

Yellow.
Hesitation–do I push it,
Or simply reign it in?
No man’s land.
I play it safe, with time to spare.
I find myself back at

Red.
At this rate,
I’ll never be home.

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