A Snatch from Youth: Eddy’s Rich Uncle

I
Pebbledashed and painted. Front gates now closed.
Garden’s trim and tidy - petunia and rose.
Her work here as wife and neighbour
with her husband’s office labour
have given them together, on Menlove Avenue,
This 5 bed deluxe semi, only bettered by a few.
That day beyond the curtains, two boys stood just there
outside this home, just talking whilst continuing to stare.

II
“See this house here, our Rob!
That big one over there, kid!
That’s my Uncle Dean’s that is
He’s really bloody rich, he is
Hey La! Better not disturb, not today
Maybe, p’r’aps we’ll come another day”

III
This one image, this snatch from youth.
Why this one? I don’t know in truth.
Eddy and me - such close young friends
have in our lives met different ends.
I escaped and moved away -
we never met again.
He stayed there with drugs and worse -
wish he stayed that lad of 10!
But that day we broke our game of football, just us two
and left our streets and walked to Menlove Avenue,
where great riches were displayed for us lads to find.
Years on it came - not asked - so strangely back to mind.
I know now that - yes - there was a house
But no bloody rich Uncle Dean
Just Eddy, his mum, (no dad) and nothing more to dream.