Looking Back 1965 Poem by Terry Collett

I was on the bus
back from Richmond
where I stayed
a day and night
with Tilly
at her uncle's place.

I sat looking
out the window.

Richmond miles away
and so was Tilly.

She'd shown me
around Richmond
the day before
(after a quick
bash at sex) ,
had dinner out,
saw the sights,
walked in the park
in the evening,
then back to her
uncle's place,
watched TV,
then bed.

I saw her
in my mind
as the bus drove along,
undressing in that room,
each piece of clothing
taken off
with a teasing motion,
then folded
on a chair,
then she watched
as I undressed
humming a tune
as I did so.

We got into the bed
and lay there.

She said:
what if my mother
could us now?

I didn't want to even
imagine that,
but she did,
it seemed as if
it was some kind
of get back
at her mother
to just imagine her mother
seeing us there
making out.

After the second time,
we just lay there
looking at the moon
through the window,
her head on my shoulder,
me kissing her head,
wondering what
her mother would say
if she'd seen us
making love
in the uncle's
guest bed.