La plume de ma tante

I was teens
troubled
and the usual do gooders
had washed their hands
so my aunt gave it a go
I’d go sit with her and uncle
one night a week
biscuit and coffee
I guess they expected
me to pour my
little heart out
while I was terrified
to let slip
anything
how could I tell
I lived in fear
of the old man
closing windows
cos that meant
there was a row to be had
and the neighbours
should not hear
was it me
my sis
mum’s turn?
or
would she
again
put it on me
my sis?
they didn’t know
when I got back
she’d sit me
interrogate
close off areas
that would not
could not
be spoken of
again
so it fizzled out
the coffee & biscuit thing
stopped
I guess they thought
they’d really tried
we’re 40+ years on
and still
I never get to see
my aunt, uncle
without
the ever present chaperone
they loved my dad
who has now died
love my mum
and if I told them
these
had tied my tongue
beaten me
to silence
I fear
they would not believe
me now
never mind
back then
over a coffee & biscuit

One thought on “La plume de ma tante

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