Love stolen…..

R N Pokharel/ CA, USA

Hungry was the street
Lying before me
Thirsty I was seeking
spirit to guide me.

Unwired— Dickens’ slum
smiles nearby
his low tune satire
Whispers – ‘love kills and heals’…

My legs bewildered,
My sense unnerved,
My head stooped,
Yet, still thirsty to be guided.

My legs carry me
to the far woods
To kiss the grave of my other-half
to let her know her lost son is found.

Alas! I found her starved
With skeleton scattered
Grave broken and torn
her wedding ring stolen.

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