The least little bit

by Jill Martindale Farrar

In the middle
of the night
I’m a child again,
hungry as a cockroach
lonely as a fly —
The frog, frightened too
sings to itself
Or listens to the night
as Mother Superior
counts beads
with cold hands.
Afraid of roll call
I wait to hear
my name
instead hear fruit bats’
violet cries —
We move towns,
night flight over
a necklace of lights,
the city seen
from a two-seater Cessna —
toy cars and a milk truck
so           tiny
so   far    down
my eyes might break
off and scatter
like glass beads
lost in the rain.

Poet biography:
Jill Martindale Farrar is a published poet, journalist, scholar, fiction writer and visual artist. She has an Honours degree in English Literature from University of Sydney and a Masters Degree and PhD in Creative Writing from University of Western Sydney. Her visual art practice includes painting, works on paper, ceramics and fiber arts. Her work, Men on Men received first prize in the 2018 Shoalhaven Mental Health Arts Prize and she was awarded honourable mention in the NOW Contemporary Art Prize 2017. She lives on the South Coast of NSW.

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