Poetry

Hal G.P. Colebatch: Janice B.

Janice B. Seventeen years old. I kissed you, And you kissed me, And (it seems unbelievable When I look back) I was too shy and gauche To take it any further.   Why didn’t I think, After that totally unexpected night, To call you back next day, tell you To dump your boyfriend?   Maybe you wondered why I didn’t phone you. But I was so overwhelmed That it never occurred to me, Then knowing none of the moves.   And I have a memory Of a totally unexpected night, My seventeen-year-old ineptness, And an occasional wondering Where are you…

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