The Rest Of The Day 1962 Poem by Terry Collett

During science lesson
Elaine thinks of John;
the teacher is talking
about compounds or

something. She sits at
the desk pen in hand
eyes on the blackboard
where the teacher writes,

her thoughts on John,
and how he said he missed
her last night, and couldn't
stop thinking of her.

No one has said that before.
No one ever thought about
her in that way. She feels
like a frump. Compared

with her young sister she
is a frump. She hasn't her
sister's beauty or frame of
mind, not the confidence

her sister has. She writes
down what's on the blackboard.
The back of the teacher's
head shows a bald patch.

Never noticed before, she
muses, pausing writing.
She looks away and looks
out of the window. Sky looks

bright and blue and cloudless.
After breakfast while brushing
her teeth in the bathroom,
she imagined John behind

her watching her, his hands
ready to embrace her and lean
in towards her. What would

she have done if he had?
She muses, putting down
her pen, and watching the
teacher pick up a glass container

and show them some liquid.
What if John and kissed her
neck, would she have screamed
and have her mother come

running? She can't imagine him
kissing her neck. Can't imagine
him thinking about her either.
Beware of boys, her aunt had said,

they're only after one thing.
What thing the aunt didn't say.
A bell goes off, no more science
for the rest of the long school day.