Words
Signs of the Times
Stop signs see so much of the world, standing there at the intersection. They know who is riding with who. Who is falling asleep at the wheel. Who puts their makeup on in the car. They see it all. Every stolen kiss, every stray hand on a thigh, every smile, and every tear.
"STOP!" They demand of each traveler who passes their station.
The other signs think they are demanding too.
I saw a fallen one the other day. Once so high-and-mighty, now reduced to resting on a sawhorse. "STOP!" becomes more of a "Stop." when read from the neighborhood of the knees. The other four guardians of that intersection tried to hide their amusement. But if I listened closely, I could hear the occasional snicker and snort quietly permeate their loud exclamations. I felt sorry for the headless soldier, and wished him well, to be quickly bolted back into his place of honor.
Curve signs are timid in comparison to their red cousins. "Please turn. Please turn. Please turn," I could almost hear her voice whispering to me as I took the corner. Her yellow and black politely request, rather than imperiously demand. They spend so much of their day begging to be noticed, that they do not notice much themselves. A green car, a red car, perhaps a pretty blue car, and oh-my-god-that-bus-isn't-going-to.. wait, it did. Yes, curve signs run a bit to the dramatic, but in the end, they are always polite. The stoppers may see them as weak, but to me they are noble and vigilant in their cause.
For all that they see, all that they know, stop signs do nothing but observe. They know who raced through the intersection, causing the Cadillac to hit the Honda. But will they tell? Of course not. So many answers they could give us, but instead they keep their own council. Mocking us as we argue and scream. Laughing when our backs are turned. They are placed above us for a reason. Or so they see it.
The fire-hydrants are the worst, however. I swear one flipped me off tonight as I drove by. But then, I'd probably be angry too if I was short and had dogs pissing on me all day.
S. Nycole Bridle
1/1/07
Stop signs see so much of the world, standing there at the intersection. They know who is riding with who. Who is falling asleep at the wheel. Who puts their makeup on in the car. They see it all. Every stolen kiss, every stray hand on a thigh, every smile, and every tear.
"STOP!" They demand of each traveler who passes their station.
The other signs think they are demanding too.
I saw a fallen one the other day. Once so high-and-mighty, now reduced to resting on a sawhorse. "STOP!" becomes more of a "Stop." when read from the neighborhood of the knees. The other four guardians of that intersection tried to hide their amusement. But if I listened closely, I could hear the occasional snicker and snort quietly permeate their loud exclamations. I felt sorry for the headless soldier, and wished him well, to be quickly bolted back into his place of honor.
Curve signs are timid in comparison to their red cousins. "Please turn. Please turn. Please turn," I could almost hear her voice whispering to me as I took the corner. Her yellow and black politely request, rather than imperiously demand. They spend so much of their day begging to be noticed, that they do not notice much themselves. A green car, a red car, perhaps a pretty blue car, and oh-my-god-that-bus-isn't-going-to.. wait, it did. Yes, curve signs run a bit to the dramatic, but in the end, they are always polite. The stoppers may see them as weak, but to me they are noble and vigilant in their cause.
For all that they see, all that they know, stop signs do nothing but observe. They know who raced through the intersection, causing the Cadillac to hit the Honda. But will they tell? Of course not. So many answers they could give us, but instead they keep their own council. Mocking us as we argue and scream. Laughing when our backs are turned. They are placed above us for a reason. Or so they see it.
The fire-hydrants are the worst, however. I swear one flipped me off tonight as I drove by. But then, I'd probably be angry too if I was short and had dogs pissing on me all day.
S. Nycole Bridle
1/1/07