‘But the tyranny of low expectations smothered them’ – Stan Grant



The boys ruck below a yellow footy, going at marker’s-up

in front of Mt Baw Baw, a heron’s head that surveys the college in its blue shadow.

The moment’s hero jogs into the goal-square and floats back the ball to them, eye to eye, with the mountain.
Muzak. Lunch over.

A white flock of cockatoos spreads over their school,

First dimpled like a net puffing in the sea-tide, it fans under the sky

as they go to their lockers

under the white flag of your will.