With Apologies to Robert Frost
Whose city this is I think I know.
His flat white’s on the counter now;
He will not see me stopping here
To clean his rubbish after he goes.
My co-workers must think it queer
To work without a visa here
Paid in cash o’er the last one year
As travel bans have kept me near.
I give my hi-vis vest a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
Am I mad to dream of my escape?
When Straya’s kept me sound and safe?
The city's lovely, tall and sleek
But I have dusty floors to sweep
And kilometres to go before I sleep,
And kilometres to go before I sleep.
Stephanie Johnson’s poetry has appeared in numerous publications including Witty Partition, Sink Hollow, Forum Literary Magazine, and others. She is an Associate Editor at Novel Slices, a new literary magazine based solely on novel excerpts, and has spent most of her adult life teaching English literature, ESL and Spanish in several countries around the world. Her writing often focuses on the slightly uncomfortable space of the expatriation/ repatriation experience. She lives in Sydney, Australia. Find her on Instagram at @stephaniejohnsonpoetry and Twitter at @stephan64833622