by JANE DOWNING
I do not remember
growing up in a tent on the
creek bank
being tied to the clothes pole
until I was conditioned
by the length of the rope
unable to move beyond its radius
even when the other end was flung
on top of a weedy tussock
I do not remember
the first roof over my head
the scars on the backs
of my legs because
the bread saw was nearest
when mum let rip
missing dinner three nights
running because the cow
had strayed
found by a neighbour twenty-five
miles away
my first pair of shoes at fifteen
I do remember
my father telling these stories
feeling them in my blood
the stones burning the soles
of the feet
the gums ghosting the nights
He spoke without anger
it was what it was
nothing can change it now
– Sunshine Coast hinterland, QLD