Leeds To Bournemouth

Dad fits a jigsaw

of suitcases and bags

into the bursting boot

of our Vauxhall Viva

wedging all four sisters

onto the backseat

perched on the pull-down

smoke from Dad’s Havana

plumes my eyes raw

ponies cantering across

a New Forest road

make him break so hard

I thump my forehead

against his leatherette seat

am told off for not sitting still–

somewhere after Southbourne

a first sighting of the sea

makes one of us a winner