“stop sign”

Written for:  The Twiglets #157 – “stop sign”

STOP! Sign my petition.

Bright red stop signs
never stop drunken drivers.

walks along cement street
stops in her tracks in front of tree
cardinal on branch

On a date one night woman said, No.
Stop, this is not where I wish to go.
Her date said why not
rumor has it you’re hot
Sprayed with mace, prevented chase, and taught him there’s no quid pro quo.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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4 Responses to “stop sign”

  1. Jules says:

    Stop… signs…. ignorance isn’t always bliss.
    But boy that beautiful Cardinal – I’ll stop for them every time.
    Saw a heron in flight in the blue sky, while returning from errands today – couldn’t stop.
    But I’d like to think I’ve etched the sight in my memory 🙂


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