The Traveler Poem by Bobbie Jean Wright

The last few days
have been full of you.
I don't know whether
to embrace the memories
or scatter myself
into a million other things.
Even when I'm immersed
in life up to the gills
and there are too many
thoughts to count
you emerge from each one
like the name-tag
on my luggage,
bright and yellow
and not easily ignored.
Pronounced, you are...
the STOP shining
out from the octogon of life
like a sign of warning
intersecting my happiness.
Sometimes I believe
you were an exit road
thrown into my interstate
as a relief from the drive...
but most times I'm certain
you were actually roadspikes.