Alison Cassidy - Stelle

She must have been quite a beauty in her day,
(and talented too, so they say)
but pregnancy forced her
to say No to Europe and
master classes with Arrau.

Later, in the silent days,
she played the old upright
at the Mechanics Institute.
A bit of a come-down from soirees
in the ballroom at Fernhurst Grove.

But when George died,
his money died with him
and you all had to move
to the cheap fibro cottage
where I lost my virginity
in the bed with grey sheets.

She called him Timmy.
You called him Stench.
She fed him rump steak.
the house stank of dog.

How you hated that dog
with its constant yapping
and its thin wire hair
that covered the furniture
and clung to your clothes.

The night she died,
when you sat by the bed
and held her hand,
you couldn't understand
why she kept asking
(with fear in her grey green eyes)
'What's going to happen to Timmy? '

I suppose that's why you wouldn't let us have a dog.

Alison Cassidy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stelle/