Run the Yellow

A coffee mug click and a kiss goodbye. From the mountains to the stoplight, from the north to the south, along the lake, the valley, the bouldered pass. The light, the green beacon to ease, the blood red of caution. When did you place your tires on the white line? When will you go, and what light next? A random appearance is translated, shaded green, yellow, red, until the door opens at a predicted second, a determined image, a figure configured by the arms of the city hanging over the street, multicolor talons directing traffic as it arrives from the wilderness.