Thursday, January 21st, 2016
The Traffic Moved
The traffic moved ever so slow
On Bloor through the sprinkled snow.
The usual passion did not show
Like a lazy ball with little “go”.
Mandala and I moved quite fast
To combat the chilled Arctic blast.
The traffic we seemed to go right past,
Our feet fueled and totally gassed.
Shoppers are few in the January blues.
Christmas is gone, its lights blew a fuse.
It’s that timely circle, no new news.
In the glum of it, there’s debts and dues.
We were quite glad, stepping the street,
Venting the power of our body heat.
You measure life by strides on the feet,
Making each move neat and complete.
We stopped to visit our tattoo friend
Working hard and that to no end.
Ten minutes went, that time we did spend
Till it came time to go round the bend.
It was night, the day said “Closed!”
All seemed still, perfectly posed.
We arrived home, I showered and hosed.
I read and wrote, then finally dozed.
May the Source be with you!