Competition

First Prize

The Hanging
by Kirily Greenbank
Creswick, Vic

His eyes, they glint - they shine like flint
As he slowly walks away.
A backwards glance, an act of chance
That led his life astray.

He climbs the stairs, murmuring prayers,
His thoughts showing plain on his face.
His troublesome life, the hardship and strife
That brought him at last to this place.

              *          *         *

He'd been more than a week at Stringybark Creek
When the troopers came searching his way.
"Surrender!" he said, then shot in the head
The trooper who wouldn't obey.

Two troopers came back; they were blocking the track.
His position was looking quite grim.
When each grabbed his gun, there was nought to be done.
He shot them before they could shoot him.

He thought he could win at the Glenrowan Inn
With a plan both cunning and daring.
Covered in armour, he felt a bit calmer.
His coat concealed what he was wearing.

The troopers, they came, intending to maim
Him, because he had caused them such grief.
His armour repelled the bullets they shelled.
The battle was not looking brief.

They shot at his head; the bullets of lead
Did nothing - so then they shot low.
Then as he fell, the troopers said, "Well,
Maybe he's human, you know."

Captured in June; he thought it too soon
For a gallant young man in his prime
To lose such a fight and give up his right
To the freedom he had for a time.

Thirty thousand had said, "We don't want him dead."
The judge overruled every one.
As he stood alone on the cold floor of stone
He thought about what he had done.

                 *          *          *

He stood on the deck and the rope touched his neck,
And he knew that he soon would be dead.
As the hanging drew nigh, he held his head high.
“Such is life,” he said