But why did my mother faint?
Mangoes, golden and full, their scent~
a whispered promise of mischief.
My mother’s eyes, wide as warning bells.
"Where did you get these?"
Her voice, a blade slicing the air.
Silence, a held breath.
Five minutes, five hours,
an eternity suspended.
"Were you alone?"
The question, a thread pulled loose,
unraveling the fabric of innocence.
"No, Mum."
The words, a hesitant confession.
My classmates, a chorus of laughter,
the sky, a vast, yawning expanse.
"And the boys?"
Her voice, a slow-burning fire.
"Laughing, Mum."
The sound, a distant echo,
a memory already fading.
"Do you know why they laughed?"
The question, a stone cast into still water,
rippling the surface of understanding.
Underpants.
The word, a whispered secret,
a shame that clings like a shadow.
Two weeks later—
more mangoes, more sweetness,
cupped in my hands.
My mother’s stare,
a mixture of expectation and dread.
"Who climbed this time?"
The question, a challenge,
a test of courage.
"I did."
The words, a bold declaration.
Her fury, a gathering storm.
"But I was smarter this time," I said.
The words, a hesitant boast.
"I took off my underpants before climbing."
The silence, a held breath.
And then, she fainted.
Contest: Open Poetry 11
Contest Judged: 3/9/2025 8:44:00 AM
Sponsored by: Charlotte Puddifoot
Placement: 3rd
Copyright ©
Maclawrence Famuyiwa
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