The Game of Life
Sport is a game
part of the game of life
Any summer weekend you see cricketers in whites
on ovals
in parks
in paddocks
sweating under the baking sun
The crack of leather on willow
The celebratory shouts
The raucous appeals
The questioning groans
That trickle through our neighbourhoods
Our summer afternoon birdsong
It used to be on the radio
Like the river
A constant in our lives
Ever flowing with us as we twist and bend through each day
They’ve flooded our world
With different length games on most nights from somewhere in the world
which dulls the anticipation
and dilutes the enjoyment.
But the river flows on
Into our stream, A rock has been thrown
that momentarily stops the flow
And stops the clocks
our tears fall
And form ponds around the rock.
we know that when the ponds are full
of our tears
the rivers will flow again
and our games
and the game of life
will resume
(2014)
Written in tribute to the game of cricket and a cricketer who died whilst playing cricket
#CricketDeathLifeSport