Traffic


My eyes are grainy today,

but still somehow find the light.

It’s bright and wonderful 

through the fog.

Cars honk, go slowly,

pacing with their horses grumbling. 

They slowly move past the line,

reined in by the weather.

I feel their longing to bolt,

Tied and restrained into a 9-5,

somedays I’d like to run free. 

Through fields of green and gold,

Past streams and rivers and trees.

I’d kick up my heels and laugh,

but my seat belt holds me down

as I wait for the light to turn green.