First, Granma’s antique vase in tragic pieces

Then, the half-cleaned fish tank

Cracked and unrefillable

Leaving the goldfish forlorn and

Temporarily homeless

No bridge to swim under

(Not that they’d remember)

The third luckless charm

Racing down the hall

With the vacuum cleaner

Just that bit too far from the kitchen socket

Pulling the lead sparking and stinking from its moorings

Committing involuntary hooverslaughter

Prompting an exasperated cry from her

‘Why don’t you two go out

And play on the side?

Kick a ball about

Get some fresh air

Get out of my hair.’

This was before

They had the car

So the slightly sloping, highwalled drive

Down the side of the pebbledashed semi

Was their playground

And the sharp smacked echo

Of the casey kicked against concrete

Assurance of the location

And the safety of her boys