The rush of cars and their angry horns drowned out every other sound. It was early November, and the first snow had crept down softly over night, to now fill the streets with dirty slush that splattered anxious people waiting on the corner of the sidewalk for the light to change.

I am the strongest of my brothers.
Green
wakes up the beasts with a nudge.
Yellow, my twin, slows them
down with a glare.
But only I can dam the river up for miles with but a whisper.