The sailor’s museum
I sit against the smooth stone wall of the museum,
closed ten years ago.
I try hard to think of something –
anything –
other than Mum leaving home.
From here I can see all of Turon
scattered around the west side of the lake.
To the north is a row of lakeside mansions
at Tipping Point where Patrick lives
bordering the National Park
separated from the rest of us
by a swampy creek
and a million dollars.
Patrick’s dad has planted a
FOR SALE sign near the driveway
that lists ocean views,
a landmark setting
and a price tag
that makes my eyes water.
Manx’s dad lobbied
the council
to reopen the museum,
but all they wanted was a quick sale
and money in the bank.
Mr Lloyd-Davis
gets a bonus if he sells it
within the next six months.
As if he needs the extra money.