My mother would begin To pack up and We knew we were on the move Father driving, listening Hourly to the news The ABC a beacon As we glided on through time My mother feeding Us Cadburys milk chocolate Content to watch the road The concrete and the horizon Widening always towards us The bonnet swallowing time As we drove the hours required Our parents on a mission We, behind, enjoying The lark of another expedition We had our own Private jokes, we whispered them Behind their stationary heads Sometimes we would wrestle Giggling…
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