MEETING POINTA Poem by Terry CollettJOHN AND ELAINE AND THEIR MEETING BEFORE SCHOOLJohn dismounts from the school bus and looks for Elaine amongst the other moving students. Trevor talks at his side, some such nonsense, he takes no notice, gives a casual nod. Where is she? All look alike in their green uniform and white socks. He studies them. Some in groups, laughing, talking; some play skip rope, others chase each other in games. Trevor says he off and will see him later. By the fence. There see. Elaine stands against the fence, eyes lowered, hands in pockets, glasses smeary, headscarf over her head. Should I approach? What will she say, after the kiss yesterday? He hesitates, walks by, hands in his pockets, head towards her, looking her way. What to say? She moves her shoes on the ground, shuffles. Shy. He walks on by. Stands still. Looks at the playing field beyond the fence. That kiss. He turns back and walks her way again. Hesitates. Stares. Go on, talk to her. Can't. Go on. He walks nearer, watches her every move, gestures. Get nearer. What if she says go away? Chance it. He walks to the fence and stands beside her. How are you? Elaine looks around at him, her glasses enlarging her eyes. She blushes. All right, didn’t see you on the bus. He looks at her eyes, I saw you get on, he says, did you sleep ok? She nods, takes her hands from her pockets, holds them in front of her. Sorry about the kiss, he says. Why? Shouldn't have just done it. Didn't mind, she says, if you meant it. He looks away. No one looking. A girl laughs near by. A boy throws a ball. I meant it, he says. She looks at him, at his quiff of hair, the hazel eyes. Liked it, she says softly. Should have said, just happened. Never mind, she says, her fingers playing against her breast. It's not a joke you're playing? She asks. Of course not. He feels nervous. His hands lift from his pockets and one touches her hands. She hesitates. Feels his hand touching. No one sees. She looks around. Girls nearby are talking; two more are showing cards. A bell rings from the school. Must go, he says. See you later? She panics, her whole being seems on the edge of a chasm. OK. Where? I'll find you. He walks off and disappears in the moving crowds. Her hearts thumps; body sweats. She looks at the moving bodies. Nervous, but no regrets. © 2014 Terry Collett |
StatsAuthorTerry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..Writing
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