Bridge

Red and white lights guide their journey,

Light foliage for their constant “go”.

I feel very far from home.

Red, white.  Red, white.  A yellow glare:

222 deaths in Cambridgeshire last year.

People finding their way home.

People leaning against this horizontal barrier

Willing it to disappear—

But still I don’t know which way is home.

My still eyes make their movement static,

Constant, never reaching home.

I find that I am not alone

As streetlights guide my yellow path:

Your silhouette stands beyond their glow.

Red, white, and black words disappear.

I’m not so far away from home.