On Seeing Enid. Poem by Terry Collett

I saw Enid's old man
leave the flats

morning grey
chill
sky
cannon smoke colour

he walked down the slope
I gave an
up you finger sign
once he'd gone

and I went upstairs
to Enid's flat
and knocked
at the door

the door opened
a narrow slit
Enid's mother
peaked at me
through the gap

what do you want?
she asked

can I borrow sugar
for my mum?
I said

she hesitated
gazed at me

guess so
wait there

and she went
and closed the door

I gazed over
the balcony
the milkman's horse
was eating
from a nosebag

some kids were playing ball
by the pram sheds

the door opened
and Enid showed
with a bag of sugar

how much you need?
Enid asked

I gazed at her thin frame
her hand shaking
a slight bruise
over her right eye

I saw your old man go
I said

she looked at me
with wide eyes

had a go at you I guess

she said nothing
offered me
the bag of sugar

aren't you cold
standing there
in that white nightie?
I asked

a bit

can I come in?

she shook her head
best not
she said
Mum's not up to visitors

OK
I said

I took the bag of sugar
and she stared at me

see you at school
I said

she nodded
and closed the door

I walked downstairs
no more bruises
I mused
than I'd seen before.