here in the bias of crosscut hills we’re playing cricket he’s umpire and decision maker great straw hat diminishing the rain the kurrajongs* play too fat footed and stolid slamming back the hardest hits or filter them crownwise wonky as inebriation and we laugh and dart simple as dogs into the fray the little ones sketch wild swings, unwind the sky in plastic swirl then run and run, victory like tooth shine in their smiles and so the bowler begins again daring precision against pebble prod and track lean forcing eager batters to canter from the crease the rain keeps falling we’re lank haired and pink cheeked wildly competitive yet fun's the only score
*Kurrajongs (brachychiton rupestris) are a native Australian tree with trunks shaped like old-fashioned milk bottles – fat at the bottom and narrowing near the crown.
Out of the Cave 
That takes me back. 🙂
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Wonderful! I was unfamiliar with kurrajongs. So thanks for the asterisk. I’ve only played cricket once. It was fun. I really like the lines, “wonky as inebriation” and “victory like tooth shine
in their smiles” Just love the playfulness of this. And the last lines sums it up perfectly.
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Thanks Bob. White Australia is still part of the “Commonwealth” so cricket is part of the national DNA. Honestly, I only discovered any enjoyment of it about 2 Christmases ago and I only play annually but it’s an aspect of the family Christmas I now look forward to.
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Cricket is a large part of our family life too. Each car has, in the boot, an ‘Emergency cricket set’ consisting of bat, balls, and one wicket…..
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Ha ha. We only had one wicket too. The other took the form of a bag or a jumper.
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🙂
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Sounds like great fun!
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It was! 🙂
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enjoyed this romp of a poem esp the kurrajongs section and the wonderful ending; reminds me when we used to play backyard cricket when the kids were young 🙂
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Yeah. The kids make it fun. Them and my oldest brother who marshals us all, lays down mischievous rules, but also yells with glee at every success and out.
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it sounds like a hoot 🙂 it reminds me of the ramshackle games of cricket that go on in the park just a street down from us 🙂
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you should write a ramshackle version of the crooked man who walked a crooked mile. 🤣
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love yr sense of humour, Worms; glad to see it come to the fore: it actually enriches your poetry 🙂
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🙂 This is so quintessentially Aussie Christmas.
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Yup. 🙂
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