A name without the story
Is a kiss without a context.
Your deeds survive your name
When you speak of uprightness to kids without
And my name is spelled across
A board and all; which rounds off a
Series of similar boards hung above eye-level
In the college main hall.
“SAF Games Gold Medalist”
And I was felicitated in these very portals
With flower and with such other
That fits the occasion.
An assembly of students line up the
Path as I am ushered.
My name, then, is history.
But, to the boys that stare up that wall
Without knowing that day I was garlanded home,
My name is no more than a name
On a board.
I supervise the tour operations,
The West End of an eco site
In Brisbane – place called Calista’s White:
A green place, really; and I have come to Randal’s Hill
After years, back to Kingswood. A day to my return flight.