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Red Cherry Red
Poem

I was born with a map of Australia on my face;
it was beautiful, my mother told me – 
there was nobody like me in the whole wide world
who could trace the edges of down under

Poem

This is my story.
It is mine alone because I am the one who needs
to tell it.
I am the one who is still here,
no longer stage right but

Poem

The dinosaurs are on the march again.
They have trampled across the terrace overnight,
Leaving green, veined footprints in their wake.
Now they lurk in the undergrowth;

Red Cherry Red
Poem

The living room remembers Gran dancing to Count Bessie.
The kitchen can still hear my aunts fighting on Christmas Day.
The hall is worried about the loose banister.

Poem

Newly baked and fresh today
Eat while hot or take away.

Red Cherry Red
Poem

Standing by the river, my face grew
into a flat fish and floated off
to a lily pad, and I was lonely
without myself, without my twin.

Poem

Spring is baby,
bright, fresh and new,
gurgling with the melting snow,
singing with the first cuckoo.

Poem

Toothless, she kisses
with fleshy lips
rounded, like mouth
of a bottle, all wet

She bruises your face
almost, with two
loving tree-root hands.

Poem

At dawn, she climbs over the horizon
to slink between the curtains
and rest her head on your pillow.

Poem

Take an apple. Chop it into quarters.
Count out three. These represent the lakes
that nestle inside countries, all the snaking 
rivers joined with seas – the blue that’s water.

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