My Aunt & her friends <br />are wondering (but not <br />for long) where I’ve gone. <br /> <br />They drink <br />their bitter lemon <br />amid the bitter gossip <br />of their pub’s sawdust & chatter. <br /> <br />I am hidden under <br />their noses <br /> <br />under their table <br /> <br />masked by the theatrical <br />tablecloth <br /> <br />amidst a forest <br />of female legs <br /> <br />that cross <br /> <br />& <br /> <br />uncross <br /> <br />divide <br /> <br />& <br /> <br />come together <br /> <br />in a language of their own. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />This is the one time <br />they can escape <br /> <br />the chores & drudgery <br />of their all consuming farms. <br /> <br />Knees dimple <br />& wink <br /> <br />thighs get scratched <br /> <br />get stroked <br /> <br />as they think & talk <br /> <br />stockings get adjusted <br /> <br />slips & petticoats <br /> <br />get smoothed. <br /> <br />I play with my toy <br />a tiny dinky car <br /> <br />(vivid scarlet) <br /> <br />& try to ignore <br /> <br />the lightning flash of knickers <br /> <br />& the white thunder of thighs. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />My eyes glowing with wonder <br /> <br />as I leave childish <br />things aside. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The dinky lies forgotten <br /> <br />as I emerge <br /> <br />bright eyed <br /> <br />& <br />more <br />grown <br />up <br /> <br /> <br />into their grown up <br />world.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coming-of-age-for-auntie-nellie/
