A Badger at the traffic lights.

I talked with a badger while waiting at the lights.

He seemed somewhat puzzled and asked for my insights.

“So why does it always have to be the same,

red amber green, green amber, amber red?

I mean, It could just stay a rather lovely shade of green,

then green, and then green again?”

My first thought was to point out that,

if they did not indeed turn red,

the trees the hedges and the surrounding fields

would soon be filled, with things either rusted, rotten or dead.

However, I decided first to ask,

“Where are you from?”

And leave the traffic light debate till a little later on.

He spoke with a kind of Geordie twang,

there was a subtle hint of Welsh.

And what at first I thought to be,

some Liverpudlian scouse.

Was in fact the scratching nails,

of a smartly dressed Door-mouse.

He'd joined me on the dashboard

whilst I was otherwise engaged,

the traffic lights' interestingly enough,

had not yet seemed to change.

The red light gave a knowing wink

as it contemplated the scene.

The amber sulked beneath, waiting for its turn,

then gave a sneer and mocking laugh,

as it looked down upon the green.

The Door-mouse; now smoking a pipe asked,

“Why make these roads so dark,

when white is far more visible?

And when the sun's gone down at night,

it's easily divisible.”

“Why and how, is it divisible?”

I asked the Badger for his advice.

But he was playing cards with a fox,

and throwing acorn dice.

“It rhymes is all,” the Door-mouse quipped,

“don't get all in a twist.”

So I thought that I would stay a while,

to see if I could assist.

“Maybe,” I said while pondering,

on why a Door-mouse would be concerned

with matters of the highway.

“Perhaps black tarmac's a whole lot cheaper?

Have you thought about it that way?”

The Door-mouse shrugged and sucked his pipe,

it seemed he didn't care.

He watched the Badger make a full house,

the Fox had only a pair.

“They can make it red for cycle lanes,

and yellow if I'm not mistaken?”

But the lights ahead had begun to fade,

their outlines now misshapen.

The red still red, a vivid one too,

the amber and green,

had become friends to form,

a sickly puddle, of greenish-orange goo.

I turned to find both Badger and Fox,

had left me to my dream.

The Door-mouse waved and just as quickly

he disappeared too.

And that was fine, I thought,

they all looked like the intelligent kind

and obviously, had better things to do.

“It could be an option I guess, the tarmac could be white.

It would be a lot easier to see the way, especially at night.”

An elbow poked me in the back,

“Can you put the kettle on love, seeing as you're awake?"

I must have thought that thought out loud.

"And remember to pay the car tax, it's thirty quid they're owed.”

Kevi B