Traffic

The shadow drifts to giant status,
Stops against the dry-stone wall.
Floodlit, anonymity crumbles
until the amber cuts the red.

Muscles strain to feel the moving,
Turning fight, let friction fall.
Whilst garish lights project the silence;
Perceived impatience spurs me on.

Green! The ambling wheel reveals
The turning way is gathered in
As stone on stone blurs from a stumble;
Grasps momentum, joins the stream.

May gear and oil and bike and rider
Melt to traffic's ebb and flow.
Relinquish effort to the moving
Force that pulls us forth. Go.