TIME TO REMAIN SILENT.A Poem by Terry CollettA BOY AND GIRL IN LONDON IN 1950SHelen's mother meets us after school and takes us to the market to buy Helen a new school skirt. I walk behind with Helen as her mother walks in front pushing a big pram with baby inside and her brother sitting on top. Her mother has a large behind like a shelf and muscle-bound arms and legs. That Cogan boy said I looked like a fish, Helen says to me. How do you look like a fish? He said he has a goldfish that looks like me: big eyes and a big mouth. He can talk; he's got glasses and a mouth that is always open. Keep up, you two, Helen's mother says. We run a few steps to catch up. He pinched my bottom in class during history and made me shout and Mr F said I was not to shout out during lesson. Did you say it was Cogan? No, didn't want to say; bit embarrassing to say he pinched my bottom with the whole class listening. Mind the road, you two chatterboxes, Helen’s mother bellows. We pause at the kerb as a lorry rushes by. We walk across the road; Helen’s mother's hat is lopsided, her coat has a loose hem. I had a fight with Cogan once. Did you? Yes, he said he was going to break my nose; but I punched him with a left, knocked his glasses flying and he couldn't see me after that, so I punched him in the bread basket. Bread basket? Slang for stomach. O, I see. She frowns. I like it when she frowns; her forehead creates lots of lines and her glasses slide down her nose. We arrive at the market and Helen’s mother sorts through skirts on a market stall. Come here, Helen, I need to measure you against this skirt. Helen goes to her mother who places a number of skirts against her. Helen's eyes are wide open; her mouth open like a fish out of water, but I say nothing, I look at her plaited hair, her hands by her side and brown scuffed shoes. This is the one, her mother says to the market man, I'll have this one. The guy wraps up the skirt in a bag and takes the money and gives her change. Now home to tea, Helen's mother says, and don't linger behind, my girl, or I’ll tan your backside. We set off, following behind, I think of Helen’s wide eyes and open mouth fish impression, but keep it inside. © 2014 Terry CollettAuthor's Note
|
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
|