Jane One Evening 1961 Poem by Terry Collett

Father is in his study
writing his sermon.

Mother is knitting
by the fire
listening to the radio.

I am sitting
reading a book of birds.

I cannot focus
I am thinking
of Benedict
and seeing him
earlier today
at the small church.

I talked with him
and we kissed.

Mother never asked
if I had been crying
despite my eyes
being red.

Benedict and I
talked of that
Lizbeth girl
and how she
had tried to get
him to have sex
on a pew
in the church.

I couldn't believe
any girl would
attempt that
especially in church.

He hadn't of course
but why did she
think he would?

The sky is darkening
bats swoop
from the eaves
and flutter back
and forth into the sky.

Classical music comes
from the radio
Bach I think.

Mother knits quickly
her fingers
moving so fast.

I feel
Benedict's lips
on mine.

We embraced
in the church
before leaving
his arms about me
mine about him.

I close the book
I feel tired
and my mind
seems dim.