Child in the red dust, I see you growing
into a jumper of fences. Off you go,
hidden between the grass heads, showing
the crickets a thing or two. Come home, crew cut,
tattooed leg, tagged to some girl or boy,
a bloody unlettered shame. Between today
and that day keep me happy and win
the triple jump. Ink you name on the school
boards in gold, like mine. The Brahman bull's
in the lucerne again. Bet he lies down
on your takkies, abandoned as usual.
Kid, let's go get the bull out. You uncoil,
spring through the grass heads to the orange soil.
Matthew John Williams