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