Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

The traffic is snarling,
	and the drivers are quarreling.
We should have gone another way
	the first driver was heard to say.
But stuck we are right now here,
	no sense wishing we were there.
Some windows we must open
	for the car to be copin’
With an engine about to heat up
	and then its water will all erupt.
To help cool it down we turn off the air
	maybe even the engine if sitting there.
Then we must settle down and be patient
	Until no more at this spot we are stationed.

© Copyright 2001 by Jean E. Gorney