Paradoxically Yours...

The Black Dog of Yesterday

(prompt: 'decision' 28th July 2017)

The penny didn't roll far from the hand that lay open now, lifeless and yet almost seeming to ask for forgiveness, or empathy, or understanding maybe; chilling rapidly now as the gentle sea breeze of moments ago freshened in temperature and intensity. The 'lucky penny' that had travelled faithfully in Adam's pocket all the way from England to Australia back in 1852, had overspent its last good fortune.

The straw to break this camel's back was the threat of financial ruin when his claim to the family castle in Scotland failed, finally and absolutely. All Adam could see through the mists of his pain, was his inability to publish his final book. Previous successes in the writing world, with four published books of poetry and countless newspaper articles and poems, had raised his hopes that maybe this book would be 'the one'. Despite being 'his own harshest critic – quite regularly discarding entire poems at whim when a single word exasperated him', in his heart he believed his writing was at a peak.

So many yesterday's since he'd loved a girl in England who shared his passion for words; who was a most receptive and appreciative audience for his earliest poetry. Sadly, his fervent wooing had no effect and before he could address this, his father's disappointment saw him arrange passage for Adam to sail to Australia. His final poem entitled 'To My Sister' described his broken heart -

I loved a girl not long ago,

And, till my suit was told,

I thought her breast as fair as snow,

'Twas very near as cold ;

And yet I spoke with feelings more

Of recklessness than pain,

Those words I never spoke before,

Nor never shall again.

In Australia, his best attributes of modesty, respect, uncompromising truthfulness and hardworking ethics found him adapting well to his new life, as he moved through several successful careers in such diverse pursuits as the mounted police force; a horsebreaker when required; a racing horse jockey and punter; a livery stables owner. But always he was dogged by bad luck with often horrific losses - none more painful than the death of his beloved baby daughter and temporary breakdown of his marriage.

From riches to rags and back to riches again – seemingly a repetitive cycle for almost all of his life – maybe leading to his famous words in his epic poem 'Ye Wearie Wayfarer' –

Question not, but live and labour

Till yon goal be won,

Helping every feeble neighbour,

Seeking help from none;

Life is mostly Froth and Bubble,

Two things stand like stone,

Kindness in another's trouble,

Courage in your own.

When he kissed his wife goodbye and walked down to the beach at Brighton, Victoria, penniless and depressed, there were no helping agencies like the Salvos or Lifeline. The only decision he felt he could make was via his Brighton Artillery Corps issue service rifle, carefully primed and loaded.

He never knew his beloved book appeared on bookstore shelves on that very day - to become one of his most famous achievements. He never knew there would be busts and sculptures honouring his memory in many places - the most famous and impressive being the one installed in Poet's Corner in Westminster Abbey, London. He was the only Australian poet to receive such a distinction.

He was Adam Lindsay Gordon - simply another of the unassuming 'giants' of Australian literature.

Author's Note: I met the challenge of the prompt word, but my hero's story defies size constriction. You will see it again someday, somewhere else -  when I can do justice to the saga that was Adam's amazing life. As one of my greatest inspirations, I owe him that much.

Author's Note (2): Unfamiliar with 'Black Dog' used in this context? The Black Dog Institute in Australia researches and supports Mood Disorders - particularly those causing depression and suicide. One can only wonder the difference in Adam's life, had such support existed then.