Out from jail,
Saw three ladies in a veil,
Which one is mine,
I could not define.
Black is not my wife's colour,
Nor worn in our culture,
White is for a widow,
I know this so,
Perhaps the one in blue
Before I could say hello you,
She ran and hugged another one,
He was her son.
Then I saw a bit afar,
Wifey coming out of our car.
Though covered in a colourful embroidered veil,
I knew it was her without fail.
30/4/2024