What It Was For. Poem by Terry Collett

Dennis said
that girl you talk to
that one with glasses
and smells of damp

I saw her in the girls' bog
well not in there
but heard more like
after she went in

and she was kind
of crying soft
Benedict listened
as they walked

the playground
(as such it was
a bombed out cellar
of some house

before the War)
why was she crying?
Benedict asked
search me

Dennis said
and kicked a ball
to some kids
over the way

then ran towards them
showing some skill
so Benedict walked up
the steps to the girl's bog

and heard the weeping sound
through the wooden door
what's up Ingrid?
he said softly

she paused
silence came
sniffling
she opened the door

and came out
red eyed behind
her specs
she wiped her nose

and pulled
the door shut
and took him
secretly

to some corner
out of sight
and lifted her
grey skirt

to show a thigh
wounded and bruised
which caught his eye
then she let

the skirt down
and wiped her hands
and blew her nose
he sighed

he knew her father's hand
had made its mark
and curse
she looked at him

her eyes larger
through the glasses
power
and stared anxious

and bit her lip
and wiped her nose
once more
don't say a word

to anyone
she said in quiet tones
be worse for me
if others know

he sighed again
and made
his humble promise
to keep his word

here
he said
and took a wrapped
toffee from his pocket

and put it
in her ink stained
bony hand
she stared

then slowly
unwrapped it
and placed it
in her mouth

and began to chew
they walked off
and down the steps
to the playground floor

he talked
of the bow and arrow set
he bought
and how like

Robin Hood he looked
and would she be
his Maid Marian
when his game

again began?
she chewed slowly
her eyes settling
to a milder gaze

yes
she said
and could she borrow
his blue steel sword?

he smiled and agreed
and she talked
of her father's wrath
and row and hits

her mother's
blackened eye
and how he hit
she herself

as she hid
behind the door
having no reason why
or what it was for.