The rebel in her

I was the girl on the hill,
downhill to the village
but an uphill slog home.

We would take the car
a 70's alpha romeo
to buy the paper,
post a letter

for Eva to kiss her boyfriend

We never told.

How I looked enviously
at the children
who milled in the playground
adjunct to the church
where we went on Sundays

hill living means devout
or not quite
the Priest never asked why
our attendance was sporadic.

I loved to cycle
on my bike that had no brakes,
downhill, crashing
into gateways to stop
and sweets on the agenda.

My friend from school
lived in the village
I met her in the playground
with her brother and friends,
we played dare
and dare we did

Stripping to our vest and knickers
in front of the alter
caught by Father Manton
who scared the devil out of us

The next Sunday
not a word was told
but I never went alone
to the playground

One day cycling home
on the straight section
the boys from the village
caught up with me

I think now they were just curious
but I pedaled hard
and the hill defeated them
and I rode home

Only to rebel later.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 475 times
Written on 2019-03-14 at 19:29

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Enjoyed this thoroughly, Elle.

Beautifully recounted.