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More poems about Life.

HEAVY TRAFFIC
Living up north aways in a small town with
no traffic lights at all,
Six cars in a row through main street a traffic
jam they do call.
Then you have to go to the big city where a nine lane
each way traffic is still
And you just realize that this fact feels like well
and truly overkill.
Off the busy freeway traffic lights seem to be at
nearly every intersection
And nearly everyone seem to turn bright red so you
cannot really get on.
Gas consumption plummets as you stop and start
and crawl along
And you hope and pray that with the motor nothing
will go wrong.
In the city we see more cars in an hour of busy
traffic moving slow
Than a whole year through as in quiet,
peaceful Cobalt we go.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 8 April 2006