Saturday, February 20, 2010



I always slow down for the orange
so I can stop at the red looking up.
Look up and see the inner blue glow.
The flower pots hanging still moist
from times we watered those plants.

You lifted your arm once to throw an
empty wine glass but I saved you from
your own eviction. You stumbled back
backwards hitting your sweet head on
that very pot the one that is - Red

light - Was a time I had a key to
that glow. Dangled from this ignition.
I had a key and I would park there.
Right there. I accelerate. Driving on
for the red has now turned to green.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2010

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