From My Iron Spine by Helen Rickerby

Grows on trees

The day
my brother told me
that leaves could be used
as money
was the wealthiest day
of my life

I stood in the bush
behind our house
and looking up
I surveyed my riches
my growing bank account

The things desired
by three-year-olds
above all else
are, of course, lollies
so off I snuck
with my pockets full
of dried legal tender
to the dairy
down the hill

But when I got there
greed gave way to sense

and I crouched outside
on the concrete
with straggly hair
and dirty feet
and crushed brown leaves
falling from
my little
fingers

Sylvia and Ted

When she met him
when she bit him
   on the cheek
      so hard
         that the blood
            ran down
               his face

she knew
she knew

she was making him
her twin

she remembered
her sharp bite
her matching scar

under her mother's house
when she woke
from the dead