I used to catch fish in jam jars
and hide in hedges.
I slept in trees like a lemur
and dreamt of rockets landing
on another world.
I made a cell from clay and glue
and learnt of other places
through the slides my father
showed me – of people in Kowloon
and in the streets of Aden.
I collected black prince cicadas
for the hospitals,
and drew in blue ink
the constellations my freckles formed
upon my skinny arms.
In the bat cave, up from Lane Cove River,
we drew maps of Antarctica
and built sleds to haul our supplies
along the sands that served as snow
so that we could reach the glacier
And tasted the blood that pooled
in our lip-bitten mouths.
