When The Felbriggs Won The Lottery

The youngest cruises along Ham Road, revving his sports car
Down the cobble, startling the ducks in the brush.
Tinted windows hide the boy who used to drag a stick
Against the scaffolding, and hop-scotched his way along the tracks.

The eldest appears in church, tanned and pedicured. Her thick, silver
Bangles rattle as she yawns at the back, loudly kneading a wad of gum.
She stares through her sunglasses, one eye on the clock,
The other on her phone, dashing thumbs on the screen.

I found the mother marvelling the rich tea biscuits, the ones
Coated in milk chocolate. I hope she takes them home, scatters them
On an old plate, patterned with flowers and bramble, and watches
Television with her feet up, knowing nothing has to change.

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