Friday, July 1, 2011


You are usually the first person to cross the traffic signal when the light turns green. While the rest of them are still in that glazed trance caused by staring too long at the red light, you have already crossed half the distance across to the other side. Quick reflexes? Restlessness? For you "have promises to keep and miles to go before you sleep"*?

Today a young man beats you to it. You feel so happy. Finally there is someone else to lead the way. They are getting the idea. You can now hope to retire as the Leader of Signal-crossings, the Breaker of the Waiting-stupor.

Finally you can grow old, grow old, and wear the bottom of your trousers rolled.... **

* Robert Frost, 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening'
** T.S.Eliot,   'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock'

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