Competition

First Prize

Pride
by David Campbell
Beaumaris, Vic.

I found him out near Broken Hill, just standing by the track...
a youngish bloke, it seemed to me, a bag slung on his back.
"You want a lift? I've got the space, and you look pretty beat;
I reckon you could use a break, so why not grab a seat?"

"Yeah, bloody hell, you're right there, mate, I wouldn't mind a rest…
this walking's fairly done me in, I've come off second-best.
I've been out here for far too long and don't feel very bright;
I don't know just how far I've got, but you're a welcome sight!"

He sat a while and watched the road, the landscape rolling by…
the red-dirt plain, the scrubby trees, the blue and cloudless sky.
I sensed a sadness, something deep, a feeling that he'd lost
a basic part of life out there and now must count the cost.

He'd turn, look back the way he'd come, then sigh and close his eyes,
as if to leave the past behind and dream of some new prize.
"A penny for 'em, mate," I said. "There's something on your mind,
and maybe you just need to talk... to help you to unwind."

He frowned and stretched and gave a shrug: "There's not that much to tell.
I guess you haven't got much choice when things don't go so well
This bloody drought has made me think... it's kicked me in the head
and told me to go somewhere else, try something new instead.

I've lived out here since I was born… the land is all I've known...
but when Dad died we had to sell; I struck out on my own.
I've picked up odd jobs here and there for three years, give or take,
just getting by with what I could to try and build a stake.

The days were long … I didn't care... I thought it was the life
until l got myself a place and maybe found a wife.
But when you see a hell like this it makes you realise
how all your dreams can disappear before your very eyes.

The place I've left was repossessed, just driven to the wall.
The bailiffs came and threw us out... the bankers took it all.
My boss has simply lost the lot; he'll have to beg and plead
to get some help from somewhere else, with three young kids to feed.

I don't know I could live like that, to see the work of years
just ripped apart and chucked away, with nothing left but tears.
There's money to be made out here, but what hope can there be
when mother nature goes berserk in ways we can't foresee?

I thought of staying on a while, to maybe see it through,
but strewth... they're up against it here,... there's other stuff to do!
I've had enough, and now it's time for me to look elsewhere.
That's why I'm heading for the coast... I'll find some work out there."

"I'm sure you will," was all I said, yet felt so very sad
to see his life had come to this... he seemed a decent lad.
But I knew something he did not: the outlook was so bleak
that I'd picked up some other blokes... he was the third this week.

They'd lost their jobs, they had no chance, they'd simply got the sack,
for all the stations were in strife, and most were cutting back.
The industry had been king-hit, and when the times are tough
then work's impossible to find... there's nowhere near enough.

So many youngsters, just like him, have now been forced to go,
to pack a bag and hit the road, with nothing left to show
for all the years they've spent out here but memories and dreams…
a future now brought crashing down by nature's harsh extremes.

It's hard enough to stay employed these dark, depressing days
without the climate acting up in all its crazy ways.
He'll find the coast is also bad, and maybe suffer twice…
the global crisis takes its toll and many pay the price.

But as we slowly drove on east I talked of other things,
to keep his mind away from stress that unemployment brings.
Instead I spoke of hopes and plans; as best I could I tried
to leave him with some confidence... and just a little pride.