Poetry: The High Mark

The High Mark

By Bruce Dawe

 

begins with the nod of a head
or flicker-signal of fingers
and a run that gathers in
the green day and the
grey crowd that rolls on its
great humble tides
and the run is a thinking
to the ball’s end-over-end parabola
that has sinews tough
– tensioning for the upward
leap,
hands now
eagle claws,
god’s hooks, hungering
for the leather dove, the run
among mere mortal men
in time, in place, become
the leap into heaven,
into fame, into legend
– then the fall back to earth
(guernseyed Icarus)
to the whistle’s shrill tweet.

Nick Howson’s Jezza

Check out Nick’s footy cards HERE.

Contact Nick about any of his art work HERE.

 

To find out more about Almanac memberships CLICK HERE

 

 

Leave a Comment

*