A Stranger In a Red Scarf

Most of the buildings were made of old red brick They lined the street in regal fashion A royal guard of centuries past The blinding white sun forced shadow to sidewalk as an old woman, bags in hand, walked along I studied her I really don’t now why She wore a drab brown coat, a bit tattered, her head covered by a bright red crimson scarf but it was her face which captured me It was her expression I could see such sadness, perhaps loneliness in her eyes Her skin ravaged by the punishment of life, her gait was slow and as I watched, I wondered Had she just come from market Was she headed home to an empty house Why did she look so sad I felt such compassion I wanted to help her That was my first glimpse of struggle I was just a small boy, holding my Grandmother’s hand And it was so long ago Yet I never forgot her The stranger in a red scarf