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Regular Columnists on GrownUps
Member since 06 Feb 2009
Member from Auckland
Posts: 15
The lights never go out where I live
at the crossroads,
where all travellers come and go.
Green, amber, red, the traffic lights
blink day and night.
People, I rarely see
but vehicles like a surging sea.
They stop, they go, some fast some slow
to destinations only they know.
Thetrucks tell me they're going to Taopu,
Merrivale and places where dreams are made.
And the lights blink
green, amber, red as I draw my drapes for bed.
But wait awhile,
They are a colourful fascination.
The blue street lights above the road,
the vehicle lights with yellow blinkers and tale-lights red.
I can watch and feel the throb,
the stop, the go,
but sleep calls me to bed.