Competition

Highly Commended

Rugby
by Brett Dionysius
Woodend, Qld

1. First Fifteen

Memory is the afterglow of experience.
The forward’s scraped cheek is a misguided
Love bite, a gift of circumstance to his skin.
His blackened eye is history's war paint, which
Fades to yellow like the index of a well-thumbed
Manual. Their minds are diamond-tipped, drilled
To perfection, tunnels form around them; visions
Of gates unlocked electrify backs & crowds jolt
Upright, their spines at attention. They awaken
The lightness in our own step, bodies laid down
In the sediment of youth. Forces crush them,
But there is always an escape. Victory is hollow
Without a victorious soul: answer to life's sum.
Before tags bruise grass, they've already won.

2. Second Fifteen

If youth were a flavour it would hug
A field position between sweet & sour.
A blissbomb under time's mouthguard
Dissolving childhood & its wicked rule.
Radical thoughts they send through gaps
In the mind's defence. Heavy penalties
Apply to gun players at random, fish-
Tailing around the best laid game plans,
Lives, careening off the side of the boot.
Tag marks obliterate those left by others;
A middle brother who benefits from hind-
Sight. They are the fountain always full,
Water holy taken & oranges like cut up
Quarters of the sun, burn at halftime

3. Third Fifteen

Give them too much space on the outside
& they're through, wrong footing fate &
Its angry crew. With room to move they
Grow, outpacing all opposition even as
The goalposts change & up the tempo.
They channel war cries; heartsongs of
The earth really & remain solid in defence.
Every loss is another sacred win, as a crow
Shoulders its rallying call amidst the din.
Cecil Plains' eyes scan next season's field
They always get back what they put in. Not
So experimental, but proven. Their gutsy
Theorem puts everyone on side. It is hard
Not to smile, when you are flying young.

4. Fourth Fifteen

Adolescence is an intercept pass, stolen
That blunts a child's forward momentum.
Against the run of play, a team can only
Watch the hard sprint to the line, even
Fleet wingers, their gait streamlined F-111
Cannot react in time. Barriers are broken
As youth touches down. Crowds cheer but
For more than the game as this parade of
Skin tight princes swap jerseys at fulltime.
Puberty is a rugby touring side tired & sore
That eventually, injury free, returns home
Forever changed. & when they look back
One thing will be understood; they sucked
In great lungfuls of air & it tasted good.