Crossing

Reaching the corner as the light turns red
Inspires a sense of potential failure,
That can be surmounted if I move quickly.

I see other pedestrians
Assembling to my right and left.
Some barely notice that they have been forestalled,
As they continue conversations that are 1000 years old.

Others, with similar dispositions to mine,
Wait, frustrated by the interruption of
Their quest to reach the far side of the street.

I position myself to have a clear line
From my side of the street to the goal
Of standing on the opposite corner,
Free to move left or right, or halt, triumphant.

As with any worthy quest
Several elements must be considered.
Are there competitors who might break first?
Or a cop waiting for me to break the law?

Oh yes, I know some might “tsk, tsk”
At the mere suggestion that “the game is afoot”.
Not all can see the glory awaiting
The first to break rank.

There are fools who do not understand
That the true individual will risk all
In an attempt to lead, and.......
Perhaps start the revolution.

Many will scoff and
See only a criminal attempt
To gain an advancement
Once enjoyed by the first “forty-niners.”

No time remains for further consideration.
Either I cross while motorized chariots hesitate,
Uncertain of the coming green light,
Or condemn myself to an eternity among the horde.