Terry Collett Poems

On some Sundays
you went for high tea
with great Nan Seeley
and you sat around a big table
...

She sits beside Finbar, he
knows she’s there, sitting
there staring into air. That
silly hat perched on the top
...

Outside the church
after the Sunday service
after singing
in the choir
...

Christina met you
on the playing field
after lunch in recess
the sun was warm
...

After the bath the drying of,
the white towel under the
arms, over arms and breasts,
between thighs, all over until
...

Miss Ashdown
faced the blackboard
and chalked leaves
and buds and stems
...

He broke down
when his wife said
the baby in her
womb had died.
...

You walked down Bath Terrace
having been to Jail Park
on the swings
and slide with Janice
...

You entered the single
factory door
into a noisy
and busy shop floor
...

Her husband failed
to give her this, this
embrace, this kiss.
Her lover, this other
...