Dancing Girl

Dancing Girl

She dances on the corner of Bloor and Dundas
Rhythmical priestess preaching her mass
Possessed by the music that no one can hear
The sun grows greater as a crowd draws near

To worship her maybe? Or maybe catch a glance
The people are watching this girl just dance
Is she blind? Is she deaf? Is she drunk off her mind?
Yet the girl dances on, not any of those kind

This sultry young woman bedazzles the masses
“maybe she’s lost from some traveling dance classes?”
Twisting, twirling, spinning swiftly, gliding through the space
A secret small smile is born across her face

As the crowd stood there like trees to be logged
People started yelling, “Oh my God- I’ve been robbed!”
Staring at the dancer deciding what to call it
While many still lament the loss of their wallet

I walked passed a car, which stopped to skid
A man popped his head out and then he yelled, “Hey kid!”
I saw the dancer walking out- my wallet in her hand
She kissed my cheek, and then she said, “Be careful where you stand”