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that keeps life ticking over.<br />
But the slave that once served you so well, is now<br />
what laps at your feet and<br />
erodes your resolve.<br />
A dirty brown revolution. Flooding<br />
your mind. Warping lintel and<br />
doorframes. Blurring<br />
the edges of photographs.<br />
And even after the torrent<br />
and fears have flowed away,<br />
it remains, in soul and memory. Gnawing.<br />
The walls of the past are now stained, and<br />
silt from the river bed is settled and still<br />
in the carpet. Squatting.<br />
You can return, you can reside. You can even<br />
hope and pray. But nothing can be the same again.<br />
This is not your home. Not anymore.<br />
Judge’s Comment<br />
This is one of the best poems in the competition. I like the build-up of detail, and the<br />
use of colloquial expression, 'It's soul-destroying, this is', which gives a sense of the<br />
human cost of the flood.<br />
Lewin Carey<br />
Cranbrook School<br />
BELLEVUE HILL NSW<br />
Riverhorse<br />
Down by the riverbank,<br />
A place to watch<br />
The myriad swift horses in the water racing,<br />
Tumbling over one another,<br />
White manes thrashing through the light blue, churning up the surface,<br />
Teeth bared and brandished, gums taut, breathing jagged,<br />
Slipping through the rocks and crevices,<br />
Intent on their goal, never wavering,<br />
Champing and stammering their cries to the sun,<br />
Who answers with a flash of brilliance,<br />
Unable to resist the summons of the call,<br />
Lifting some of them into the air, passing into shimmering mist,<br />
Light splayed through the droplets, all hues, colours and shades,<br />
Iridescent spray forming in the air,<br />
Alone merely a droplet within the ocean,<br />
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