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Traffic Lights by theconjob, literature
Literature
Traffic Lights
Not even the sun could permeate the cold
As it battered against the atmosphere,
Calling out in feeble warning,
Trying to break in.
I, who merely nodded in acknowledgement, accepted the azure chill
And proceeded on my way-
Meteorological contradictions of no concern.
A soft stroke of your delightfully long hair
Instilled in me a fresh lease of hope
As we joined icy hands and walked,
Under the humble trees
That I’d seen so often that autumn,
To the traffic lights.
