New Ground

My name's Joe, I'm nearly seven, and have a sister, Jane,
who is eight and thinks she's boss, but I think she's a pain.
Dad's a giant and he isn't clumsy like poor Mother,
who keeps on falling over when they're yelling at each other.

I'm in the car with Mum and Jane, we're going on a trip.
"A holiday!" my mother said, and then she bit her lip.
I should be excited but I feel upset instead,
for leaving Dad alone, asleep, a bottle by the bed.

I ask Mother why it is our Dad was staying home -
did she forget to take him, wouldn't he be sad alone?
She said, "No, he has some work to do that cannot wait.
He'll join us when it's done, now go to sleep, it's very late!"

I know she's right, and so I try to will myself to sleep
by counting guideposts on the road instead of boring sheep.
But I can't see them as the window's all fogged up again;
instead, I count the streaks left on the glass by all the rain.

Jane was quiet well before she went out like a light.
If I wake her up, we're almost sure to have a fight.
I feel a bit mixed up and cannot figure out just why,
her being quiet makes me feel so lonely I could cry.

Mother's wearing glasses that are dark and hide her eyes.
I want to ask her why, at night, she's still in this disguise?
And now and then I see her wipe away a tear or two
with shaking fingers and her face is white, like kiddy glue.

We pull up at a diner, and I start to poke Jane's arm;
she wakes, and glares at me, as if she'd like to do me harm.
The three of us run quickly through the rain and bitter cold,
towards the dry and warmth inside, where yummy food is sold.

We're sitting at a booth and I won't let the moment go:
I ask Mum if she's feeling well? She says, "I'm okay, Joe",
then puts her hands up to her face and starts to cry and cry
like she won't stop; it gets so loud, it frightens Jane and I.

We want to help, but we're unsure what made her cry like this!
So we attempt to calm her with a cuddle and a kiss.
She takes the glasses off and wipes the tears from her wet face,
and there's a big, black bruise that's just as huge as outer space.

She says, "I tripped again, I sometimes think I've two left feet!
Your food is getting cold, so come on kids, you need to eat."
We do what we are told, but I still wonder why she cried.
And though I'm only six, I think my mother may have lied.

Then she smiles and tells us she is sorry she was sad,
and also that our holiday will be the best we've had;
“because we're going somewhere nice, with sunshine all year round.
I know we'll all be happier to walk upon new ground".