With Fay on a Bus.
The bus moved away
from the bus stop
and Fay sat next to you
her body rocking
side to side
with the motion
of the bus
her knees pushing
against each other
her hands in a prayer like pose
upon her knees
Are you going
to the cinema?
she asked
Yes
you replied
The Globe
That old fleapit?
she said smiling
her lips parting
showing
small white teeth
What are you going to see?
A cowboy film I think
you said
Why don't you come too?
I can't
I haven't any money
she said
Besides my dad
wouldn't like it
he thinks films
are the Devil's work
she looked out
at the passing view
you studied her thumbs
rubbing over each other
her nails pink
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poem by Terry Collett
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