A poem by Jan Fran: ‘Write it down, they say. You’ll feel better. But how to speak the unspeakable?’

Each week during Australian Poetry Month, a poet walks us through one of their works. Here, the journalist grapples with raising a child in a time of ‘tremendous helplessness’

The question I ask myself the most is what temperature is my son
On the days we bake along the coast
I stare up at the sun
As it bears down on us
His cheeks pink, I think
What temperature is my son?
Perhaps he needs a hat.

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