Seasonal sea breeze peeps
through the broken windows.
The old sailor rests on a hammock
and the torn World map on the wall
some countries washed out.
The seafarer rides a hobby horse
which belongs to his grand son.
A distant ship brings him a tear
with a ripple and he knows the rickety soul
cannot stand for the coming new year.
His sorrow is heavier than the mysterious life
and he thinks which he sees the last sunset.
nimal dunuhinga
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-his-shack/
