Confused

i was walking
along a busy road
of this village
where the sound of
squeaking bikes
abound, and

this old woman
carrying a basket of
fish
stared at me, i

was carrying a book
and an umbrella

it was sunny and
the old woman
stared at me, perhaps

i guess, he must
have missed his son,
perhaps his son
stopped schooling
enlisted himself as
a soldier
because there is no
more money
to spend
for his tuition in
school....

perhaps, his
son died in
combat, and perhaps

his son once had
a book.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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