Green Light

City rain at night
reflects the quiet light
of neon colored pools
disturbed by the hiss
of tires, a sound as sad
a midnight train
reminding of those
now gone.

At the crosswalk
the red ball
flashes green
and the illuminated man
tells me I have no choice
but continue
each step taking me further
accompanied only
by moonless doors
and the smell of wet pavement.


Poetry Monday