Back to Saint Andrews

 After midday with care and pride
The driver drove through the smaller town
The one with all the status
Sun was looking in from above a hill

It occupied as much of the front seats as possible
Silence from the back where mother and children waited
Waiting to arrive home in their city below smoke stacks
The south eastern refinery lighting up like a sinister eye at night

The city's they were passing through
had roads that were fancy
Chic landscapes and architecture
A great contrast from their own city

But no opinions arose from the backseat
No comparison or wonder at the stark difference
The sun everpowerful through the front seat
The driver unfurling the visor

Several turns later not more than half a minute
Cloud cover turned the day a dark pale
A faint bluish haze welcoming them
into their rustbelt city

The sky like the road felt no obligation for relief
They had to get out at a petrol station 
A whole kilometer from their house
The whole town reaked of disinterest