Joyous Awakening

by Michael Keeling

It’s six o’clock
in the morning
Egyptian Geese are in full throttle
It is early summer
sleep is a doze.

Across the globe
in Tasmania
it’s cold, a two-sweater day.
The cockatoos are shivering
waiting for the sun to shine.

Reaching for
the television controls
a scene unfolds
of a shattered
Australian cricket team.

Forget the earthquake
across the water.
Forget the missing Proteas.
Praise those who were there
determined to succeed.

Not just once
but twice
and maybe thrice.
Far away from home
against all odds.

There in Hobart
it’s still a two-sweater day
but there’s a glow
on South African faces
as the result sinks in.

Here the Egyptian Geese are full steam ahead.
Gone are the Tasmanian Devils.
Smiling faces proclaim
another extraordinary victory over Oz.
Let’s turn over and get some more sleep.


Cricket on the village green

by Angela Prew

Tanned arms, strong
from lifting bales, crab pots
and hods of bricks,
these men, white trousered
Sunday cricketers
were once the boys
I taught.
I knew them well,
the noisy, naughty, troubled
and troublesome lads,
some well-behaved and studious
now grown.Their children,
carbon copies of those boys,
chase each other, shouting,
up and down the pitch.
Their wives, those girls
I also knew once, long ago,
offer tea, home-made buns
and gossip.
The years have robbed me
of their names
but a sudden flash
of recognition
takes me by surprise
and time rolls back.