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/