Poem: Red Light
One must stop to understand the meaning of the light.
a gray-blanket sky
on a two-lane blacktop
south of Ovando, we come
upon a red light, a traffic light,
extended by an orange metal rod out
over the road, an empty road, no intersection,
no one around, and we look at each other, what the hell,
and decide oh well, guess we better stop.
We have time to follow the law.
It soon becomes apparent
just how meaningful
stopping can be,
a red light,
or Memorial Day,
as it allows you to pause,
take stock, check yourself, and inquire:
Is this the right way? Why is that red light here?
Is this a wildlife crossing or something? What do we do now?
Jesus Christ, how much longer do we have to sit here?
Once your mind has run itself ragged, you relax.
Of course, you could just blow through
the red light. But there might be
a camera. Get a stupid ticket.
Where’s the fun anyway?
You ran a red light
on an empty
you’d crow about.
So you open the doors, sit back,
take in the land and sky and silence.
Your mind wanders, ponders, conjures up forgotten
moments from the past and with your filters down like
car windows you say truthful things you’ve never
before uttered. You relieve yourself.
You close your eyes
and see that all
Everything becomes clear.
Epiphanies float like bubbles in the air
and you are suddenly aware of the
meaning of the light.
It’s so simple!
You open your eyes
and, voila, the light turns green.
Doors close, wheels engage, life is back in gear.
“Finally!” you shout.
So, what were