A country lass weaves a cane basket in her lifestyle

After I finished my handicraft
We'll go together full of apples in the basket.
The far away isolated park where a bench is alone since last year.
A year has passed but you are still stuck in the town.
You have forgotten my address and at least a single line to say hello!
I know that you are busy in the ruined Manor among the maid servants.
Coming Christmas I am already twenty two and I am scared as my aunt
She is sixty two and still a spinster.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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