Monday Morning On The Bus
Mona sits on the school bus,
the noise of the other children
seems far away, she is indulging
in her thoughts. Lisa will get
on the bus soon. Her closeness
again. Sitting just here. Next to
me, Mona muses, patting the
seat next to her. The evening
before they had parted after
the tea. The bedroom romp
had filled her up. Each moment
seems to relive in her mind.
She looks out of the window,
passing countryside, cows in
fields, trees, birds. They had
almost drowned in the downpour
of rain from the woods to the
house the afternoon before.
Drenched to the skin. Get out
of those wet clothes, they had
been told by a parent. And they
did so. That started it all off.
Naked and drying. How had it
got that far? She thinks, watching
a girl on the other side of the
aisle of the bus talk about
watching such and such on TV.
She wonders how Lisa feels now.
The day after. After such things,
such sights, such deeds. The bus
draws to a stop. Others get on.
Lisa comes up the aisle and sits
beside her. She smiles and fiddles
with her school bag. Her fingers
nervous, like spiders on the run.
Sleep all right? Mona asks. Yes,
Lisa answers. Their eyes meet.
Mona feels a thump in her breast;
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
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