In ti-tree shade In the speckled shade of ti-trees after school Judith Wheeler lifted her blue serge tunic, slipped down her pants of white soiled lace, And showed me her most secret place, Down there where white smoothness Vanished into tight folded emptiness; And because I was six and she was nine she felt no need for me to show her mine, but invited me to taste. And I, on her dare, touched my tongue-tip quickly there, tasting pee and Palmolive soap, and something dark as the sea, remote and baffling. Many years, many women, a long marriage Have not resolved the mysterious joy Of Judith's taste, in ti-tree shade.