The Girl Who Was a Bird
When I was young
I wrote to a girl
(on an island far away)
Who drew her self-portrait
In cheap ballpoint pen:
A bird in a cage.
When I was young
I wrote to a girl
(on an island not so far)
Of my home and land
How I wished she was here:
The bird cried behind bars.
When I was young
I wrote to a girl
(She was brave and strong and true)
Who sang and cried in her cage
In a forgotten attic-space
As she watched the world pass.
When I was a woman
They opened the cage
Long enough for my friend
To spread stiff wings
To soar as songbirds should.
In the blue sky she left my sight.





Jessica said: I was guilty of having a baby on Christmas Day last year, and I’ve been filled in on the potential downsides of a birthday overshadowed by Christmas. I hope she always finds her birthday special, and I’ll be sure to sing her Happy Birthday every year.
Jessica said: I live on a bush property, so smoke always brings to mind either campfires or bushfires. I based this poem on my thoughts about the different messages smoke can give us.
Jessica said: I wrote this poem for my daughter, who for now likes both pirates and princesses.
Jessica said: I usually write poems in two stages. I’ll have an initial blaze of inspiration, during which most of the writing happens. Then I’ll let the writing stew over the following days (or weeks), making small changes until it feels right.