On broken feet

Published by Prospero E. Pulma, Jr on

the ugly writers

On broken feet

I hear all but the din at the corner,

see all colors but only watch

the lights dancing red, yellow, green.

red was my foe, but every traveler’s friend;

yellow was neither; green was for the beasts.

so I will advance on broken feet and wobbly knees

just as yellow starts dancing with green.

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