In the school corridor
Sheila waits for John,
gazing along the corridor
to see if he's coming.
Kids pass her by
on their way
to the cloakrooms
or lockers.
It is a clear blue day,
so she can go out on
the sports field
at midday break
and see him
if she doesn't
see him now.
Her elder sister stands
and stares at her and says:
Who are you waiting for?
Sheila stares back.
Jesus, who do you think?
Sheila says.
That's blaspheming;
I'll tell Mum when
we get home tonight,
the elder sister says.
Mind your business,
go say your prayers,
Sheila says moodily
and turns away.
Her sister goes off
with a turn of her head
and off down the corridor.
She sees John coming
with the boy Goldfinch
and is anxious
what to say or do.
John is talking
to the other boy.
Should she stop
and talk to him;
hope the Goldfinch boy
walks on?
He gets near
and her anxiousness
increases,
she feels so
self-conscious.
He looks her way
and nods and says:
how are you?
She fumbles
with her satchel.
I'm OK,
she replies,
wanting to say more,
but her words cease.
Good,
he says,
see you later
on the sports field?
She nods and smiles.
He has gone up
the corridor
with the Goldfinch boy;
she follows him
with her eyes,
wanting to touch him.
And he didn't notice
she'd done her eyes.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 3:13 AM UTC
In the school corridor
Sheila waits for John,
gazing along the corridor
to see if he's coming.
Kids pass her by
on their way
to the cloakrooms
or lockers.
It is a clear blue day,
so she can go out on
the sports field
at midday break
and see him
if she doesn't
see him now.
Her elder sister stands
and stares at her and says:
Who are you waiting for?
Sheila stares back.
Jesus, who do you think?
Sheila says.
That's blaspheming;
I'll tell Mum when
we get home tonight,
the elder sister says.
Mind your business,
go say your prayers,
Sheila says moodily
and turns away.
Her sister goes off
with a turn of her head
and off down the corridor.
She sees John coming
with the boy Goldfinch
and is anxious
what to say or do.
John is talking
to the other boy.
Should she stop
and talk to him;
hope the Goldfinch boy
walks on?
He gets near
and her anxiousness
increases,
she feels so
self-conscious.
He looks her way
and nods and says:
how are you?
She fumbles
with her satchel.
I'm OK,
she replies,
wanting to say more,
but her words cease.
Good,
he says,
see you later
on the sports field?
She nods and smiles.
He has gone up
the corridor
with the Goldfinch boy;
she follows him
with her eyes,
wanting to touch him.
And he didn't notice
she'd done her eyes.
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