Yellow

poem about medians

I wouldn’t slow down if I were you.
Consequences
haven’t caught up yet:
finish the yellow stripes
on the highway, outrun
the brush strokes and
blur the lines solid—
roll through caution
melt the prairies
make a molten April
so fast the trees leave
yellow streaks over you,
even the warm can’t hug
you now, don’t stop now.
forget the road, trust the 
wheel, bite the tires, and
roll yellow fields
into yellow skies,
into yellow fields,
into yellow skies,
into yellow…

You forgot, didn’t you?
About the road
and how the yellow 
was supposed to remind you
where the sidewalk ends.

¹art by Pragna Gaddamedi (@prgs.jpeg)

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Poetry Tip of the Day!

A lot of my poems just start out as descriptions. In this case, it also ended as a description, but my hope as a poet is that you think of or see something differently because of what I’ve showed you. This is my attempt at infecting your idea of yellow. Maybe next time it will be red, or god forbid, whatever your favorite color is. Take this as a warning.

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1. crash prevention specialist