Needlewoman

I see the fading light of my neighboring Seamstress's room.
The poor widow does embroidery of the mysterious life pattern.
I too have some darn work of my patchy clothes
And I want to borrow a needle and a thread from you.
Is it too late if I knock at your door in the midnight?
And I am sure the evildoers definitely chatter a gossip
When a bachelor meets a widow.

* I dedicate this poem to all the widows of this oblique world.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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