the squeaking of breaks,
little red lights
going and going
forever.
Stopping and staring,
waiting and watching
for hours
and hours
and hours.
The sky seems to change
as the
people loose patience
as the
cars stay still.
No hope of moving
or going anywhere
for hours
and hours
and hours.
I know that feeling of pure frustration when the lights are changing form red, to green, to yellow, then to red again. Over. And over. And over. You captured the image really well! Nice slice!
ReplyDeleteI started my day in traffic trying to get to an appointment and I was getting so frustrated. I hope you were not really in traffic for hours and hours. I like the structure and format of your poem and the repeating lines between the stanzas work very well.
ReplyDelete