With Fay On A Bus. Poem by Terry Collett

The bus moved away
from the bus stop
and Fay sat next to you

her body rocking
side to side
with the motion

of the bus
her knees pushing
against each other

her hands in a prayer like pose
upon her knees
Are you going

to the cinema?
she asked
Yes

you replied
The Globe
That old fleapit?

she said smiling
her lips parting
showing

small white teeth
What are you going to see?
A cowboy film I think

you said
Why don't you come too?
I can't

I haven't any money
she said
Besides my dad

wouldn't like it
he thinks films
are the Devil's work

she looked out
at the passing view
you studied her thumbs

rubbing over each other
her nails pink
and polished

like small shells
He needn't know
you said

I wouldn't tell
she turned her head
and said

I would know
and he would know
by the look

in my eyes
he knows I always
tell the truth

and never tell lies
you put a hand over hers
and her thumbs

became still
and her hand
touched yours

Maybe one day
she said
I will.