wesmdow
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Dec 13, 2004
- Messages
- 4,016
pause:
speedy salty grey roads halt, yeild to the dim red glow.
arbitrary--
no one is coming!
no one will!
yet... we wait at the red light,
rubber tires clutching cold, wet blue night...
(when) will she turn green?
(when) will i have to go?
...or will i get to come?
i thought of the metaphor while sitting at a red light on the way to my girlfriends house the other night.. does this come through in the poem? too strongly?
any feedback would be nice
