Vera Sidhwa Poems
Ah green, I love my green.
It's the traffic light's nicest scene.
Green is a traffic dream.
You can always keep driving, driving, driving.
And you can keep going in life, whatever you're doing,
Your favorite project, your favorite dream.
And orange traffic light,
In my life, I've had to a slow down when I was skiing,
A slow down of whatever I was doing.
And oh red light.
I had to stop being in so much strife.
I had to stop my bad habits.
Speak to me of youth, and breezes warmed by the sun
The breezes that falter down cool alleys
In the city built in the sun
Speak to me of flower vendors, and the beggar boys that run
The old ones who stagger through dusty roads
Of a city built in the sun
And I'll tell you of a hundred days when I wished all was well