My parents said
you can come on Saturday,
Yochana said to Benedict,
outside the classroom
before maths.
How will I get
to your place?
He asked.
My dad said
he will pick you up,
and take you home again,
she said.
He looked at her,
and frowned.
Just for the day?
He said.
Yes, they want
to see what you are like
first before they
let you come,
and stay for a weekend,
she said.
A trial run,
he said.
Sort of,
she said,
Mum really,
Dad would be
ok about it,
but Mum isn't sure.
Other kids
milled about them,
pushing and shoving.
Speak to you
at lunch recess,
he said,
and wandered off
with Rolland,
and stood talking to him.
She moved over
to her friend Angela,
and they spoke about
the TV the night before,
and who was in what,
and who had done what.
Yochana watched Benedict
as he stood with the other boy.
She hoped he'd come on Saturday,
and that her parents liked him,
and that he could stay
the weekend,
and maybe,
she thought,
once her parents were asleep,
she might sneak along
to where Benedict was
to slept in the spare room,
and snuggle up to him
in the single bed,
and they could
do the things
she's heard about,
and dreamed of
in her nightly sleep.
Secret of course,
best way
for dreams to keep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem