Traffic Signal

Traffic Signal


Each time I breathe , melosa
The vehicles went
Aside a traffic signal in a nook
I am in rest
In peace

Each time when it is red, prutah
I see so many still images the wings
Flying from those eyes of the people, waiting
In the traffic signal to clear off

The wandering shade of those eyes
Carry some dreams
Some tussles
Some love
Or the past where they went back
To clear something without a touch

Indian Street Writer

Hari Das

Koramangala Hari Das

(Eji Pura Signal)

melosa a spanish word – Gentel
prutah american hebrew – a coin of lesser values

6 thoughts on “Traffic Signal

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