THE RED SIGNAL

I stopped with others
As the light turned red,
Wiping the sweat off my face,
I cursed the unkind Sun.

I saw this girl, thin and delicate,
Holding a metal ring and a scarf red.
Her body moved in rhythm, with no music,
An audience not bothered of her presence.
She did some stunts
With the ring as a prop,
I stared in awe,
her performance left me numb.

Bestowed with talent, an artiste she was none,
a dweller of the street and her clothes torn.
Defining perfection, her eyes so green,
A red signal is where she begins…
No applause for her as she finished,
Amidst strangers, a hope she searched.
Looking at her, she did notice,
Came to me with arms stretched.
I fished into my pockets for a coin or two,
Found a note of ten instead,
Handing it to her, I offered a smile,
Smiling back she left in haste.
Her thought haunted me all the way,
No rehearsal or a stage to play,
A red signal holds all her wants,
Destined to begin when ‘else halts…