Thoughts At A Stoplight

A poem about my weird brain

Yellow becomes red
A lurching stop
And my focus is freed to wander

The cars before me
Flow past like streams
Beige and white streaks, mostly

The streams all blend
Into music in my head
And every nerve is pulsing

Green!
I toss my revelation
Like the butt of a cigarette into the wind
Gas!
And I’m back, mostly

If you liked this poem, here are a few others by me:

Dance of The Spheres

Flammable

Eternity