One August morning came with a deploring telegram
It replied cents of non-replied cables to Maria.
‘Her body was found mangled in the woods’
Its seventh line read.
One afternoon, once in the fifties,
Maria with the fresh sweet-pain of a broken hymen
Had worn her suede boots and blue dress.
Behind tears I glanced at her,
Behind the train window she gandered back.
‘Soon.....’ she had whimpered and kissed me.
‘I will return soon’ to my heart.
With a golden locket holding a grinning couple,
I sit at the train station awaiting my lady,
I wander in the streets looking for my lost love.
Maria, the sound of my happiness.
© Namaganda