Yellow Light

Yellow Light

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

You make me think of that quick little moment before the yellow light turns red.

The moment that can make even the meekest among us bold.

That moment where you decide to either commit full on or to jump ship.

You remind me of the turn of the century.

How suddenly, the number 99 makes people realize the weight of time;

when suddenly, the unknown seems more dangerous than the mundane every day.

You make me think of flirting with danger;

something I've become rather good at.

I run yellow lights all the time.

I was born in a 99.

But I can't find a conclusion: not for this poem, and not for you.

All Rights Reserved