Kinkily In Her Head 1997 Poem by Terry Collett

Nuala is waiting
in a park for Una;
her husband Brian
is at work.

Una is not in sight;
the place and time to meet
are imprinted on her brain,
and she goes over it
again and again,
looking around her,
taking in each
person passing,
each sound of voice.

Where has she gone?
Time going, and me
getting all excited
like a schoolgirl
on her first date.

I can't being doing this,
what if Brian were
to see me sitting here?

Nuala rubs her legs,
stands up, sits down,
stares in all directions.

She's not coming;
something's happened,
she's had an accident
and I won't know.

Una comes around
the corner flushed,
eyes large,
features reddening.

She sits beside Nuala
and says:
sorry had a row
with the landlady
about entertaining
guests at all hours
and she having to
maintain a good
reputation and all.

Nuala is a mixture
of gladness and frustration.

Glad you're here;
so what now?

Una shrugs
and looks at her.

Don't know;
she'll be peeping out
of her window seeing
whom I bring home.

Where can we go?
Nuala says, feeling
an urge to, but knowing
it may not be.

Can't we go
to your place?
Una says.

Nuala shakes
her head.

No, what if Brian
comes home and we're
at it in the bed?

And as she says
the words,
the image flashes
kinkily up
in her head.