Here’s to a Legend

They talk in awe in Launceston of the floods of ‘29
And the rains that came and caused such disarray –
How a peak tide coincided while the heavens were divided
And the Tamar cut the town from Invermay …

And all along the riverfront the waters swirled and rose
With a sucking, rushing terrifying sound –
Like ants the people scattered and only one thing mattered:
To beat a fast retreat to higher ground –

But one man went against the flow from his home on Mowbray’s ridge
He leapt onto his pushbike and rode towards the bridge
For years he’d worked at Boags – drove the brewer’s dray round town:
He knew his Clydesdales in the stables there would more than likely drown …

He reached the bridge and pedalled on, the waters now waist-deep
Halfway across his bike was gone and the odds were looking steep -
But guided by the railings he swam and clawed his way
Till he reached the other side of the bridge at Invermay …

And the horses in the stables saw a figure wading near
And his presence calmed them greatly and soothed away their fear
As he gently slipped their bridles on and stroked each massive face
Then led them through the flooded streets to a safer, higher place …

They still look back in Launceston to the floods of ‘29
And Wizard Smith’s brave act upon the day –
And how he was rewarded with a job for life at Boags
And the pride with which he drove the brewer’s dray …

And I even now imagine on a wet and wintry night
If I stood there by the river with the brewery in sight
I might spy a misty figure perched high upon a dray
With four big Clydesdales crossing the bridge at Invermay.




John McCallum
2010

Nike

My runners have a message
emblazoned on the side:
Just do it.
A slogan to inspire us all
to run the miles,
last the distance,
succeed in life.

Just do it.
An all-purpose, one-stop slogan
with special offers,
dreamed up by some advertising guru
on Madison Avenue
who wouldn’t know the real Nike
if he fell over her.

Which he might,
if he climbs Mount Olympus
on a hot Hellenic day,
wearing his expensive runners
with tight, pressed jeans
and a superior expression.
(The tourist from the bus
who looks like Dolly Parton
only bigger, thinks he’s cool.)
A legend in his own lunchtime,
full of hot air and coq au vin.

But ah, that Nike!
A goddess with class, looks, allure
and wings. The Goddess of
Strength, Speed and Victory.
Our friend might glimpse her
on the mount, hanging out with
Zeus, Apollo and their lot.

But I suspect she took off
when she saw him coming,
because she knew he couldn’t
do it.



Cathy McCallum