ELIZABETH Jennings, a gentle poet of insight, experiences the generation gap on a bus journey. Her poem is included in The Oxford Book of Twentieth-Century English Verse, chosen by Philip Larkin (Oxford University Press, Eighteenth Impression, 1997).
THE YOUNG ONES
They slip on to the bus, hair piled up high.
New styles each month, it seems to me. I look,
Not wanting to be seen, casting an eye
Above the unread pages of a book.
They are fifteen or so. When I was thus,
I huddled in school coats, my satchel hung
Lop-sided on my shoulder. Without fuss
These enter adolescence; being young
Seems good to them, a state we cannot reach,
No talk of ‘awkward ages’ now. I see
How childish gazes staring out of each
Unfinished face prove me incredibly
Old-fashioned. Yet at least I have the chance
To size up several stages – young yet old,
Doing the twist, mocking an ‘old-time’ dance:
So many ways to be unsure or bold.
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