Red Light, Green Light
By Laura Foley

An ambulance pulls in front of me,
siren shattering the still winter night,
flashing red light I follow,
along the unlit country road,
for miles, toward home—
where I planned an evening
with my beloved: dinner,
log fire lighting the hearth,
coziness in bed.
Forgive me—
for the joy that rises in me,
as the red lights turn left,
into someone else’s night.

 

 

About the Poet:  Laura Foley’s seventh collection of poetry, Why I Never Finished My Dissertation, is due out in September 2019.  Her work has won the Common Good Books poetry contest, the Joe Gouveia Outermost Poetry Contest, The Atlanta Review Grand Prize, Foreword Review Poetry Prize and others. A palliative care volunteer in hospitals, she lives with her wife and their two dogs among the hills of Vermont. www.laurafoley.net and www.lauradaviesfoley.com