A Homeless Became A House Owner For A While? Poem by nimal dunuhinga

[I got myself a sleeping, walking, crying, talking Living doll.]-Cliff Richard, 'Living Doll',1959

A manor by the riverside
Black Swans mate and drift with ripples
in the Moonlit night,
And the dumb ferryman
Who sings a sad song
in his deep voice?
White washed Church stagnant
and the bell tolls to the strong winds
without a bell-ringer?
And he suddenly woke up to the moisture
As his cardboard shack got totally wet
Heavy rains started late in the night
And he sees through his blurred polythene window
Lightening makes sorrowful designs of life
in the dark barren sky?

*I remember while I was in California, one night a homeless smiled with me and he muttered; 'Long time no see? Sorry brother, I have a non-filter cigarette otherwise you could have a small puff into the patchy lungs if you don't mind? '

nimal dunuhinga