Betrayal,1957 Poem by Andy Allan

Awkward, shy, but unable to resist.
Laughter had drawn her to
the crumbling old pig-sty.
Protesting wire squealed
through rusty staples as
we raced up the shoogly post.
We balanced briefly on barbs,
then scrambled to
thunder-slide on hot,
bum-polished, corrugated iron.
Large, five-year-old eyes,
pled wordlessly to join us.
Friends punched me with smirks
but I shrugged indifference,
and her eyes glowed.
All-too-soon there were whimpers.
"Your sister's stuck, " they jeered,
"she can keep off our bit."
She perched, trembling,
staring down, but eventually let go.
Stutter-slipping on untried rust,
she dropped into nettles.
Dusty pain-tracks marked her cheeks
as she stabbed me with red accusing eyes.