Each year, after Christmas My parents would take Each other to task over The chore of packing up Everything not nailed down Into our creaking old VW And setting out at 3am On Boxing Day To avoid the traffic We drove West for hours My sister snoring on the Seat beside me Much as I preferred her Not one of nature’s Easy travellers But asleep she could pass For serene, with each Sodium street-lit flash Kissing features that appeared Sepia...
