Magdalene's Punishment 1963 Poem by Terry Collett

Sister Bridget
slammed her ruler
over the palm of my hand
her features cold and stiff
as she did so.

I let no emotions show
in my features.

The sting came
and remained like stain.

She did it three times
on each palm
then let my hands
fall at my sides.

She stared at me
that Magdalene
is what happens
when you act
as you have
she said
go and sit down.

I walked back
to my desk
and sat down
next to Mary.

I will not have
such behaviour
in my class
while I am trying
to teach
she said.

The other pupils
in class
stared at me briefly
then stared at the front
and the nun who walked
back and forth
in front
of the black board
like a lioness
looking for more prey
to feed her emptiness.

Are you all right?
Mary whispered
leaning close to me
staring ahead to see
where the nun
was looking.

Silly old cow
Mary whispered.

I'm ok
I said
sensing the sting
still there
but keeping
my emotions in check
as I did as a little girl
after my father
had slapped me
in one of his
drunken rages.

I sensed
Mary's hand
touch mine
under the desk
she stroked them.

I wished we were alone
and I could kiss her
as we had
a few days ago
in my room
when my mother
was out.

The nun yakked
on about St Paul
and his voyages
and how
he nearly drowned.

I wished the old bat
would hang herself
with her rosary
or drown out
in some deep sea.