Listen to me read this poem

Dad? Dad! Smiling among my son's books,
Moustached, short-back-and-sides, barrel-chested,
Bald as me...the same age, just the same looks...
A photo I'd forgotten. Good on yer, grinning there!

My sons are off to university, not the Royal Welch
Like you, then me. You won your stripes in bloody mud;
I returned salutes with a swagger cane and
Your last words to me? "You don't know what's good."

Mugabe's win the morning that I left - five months later
you were dead. No grasping determinations so deft
which sent my brothers, then you, to Transvaal,
me to Australia's authentic life.

- from Being Determined (1990)