At the Boundary

the Boundary

We are beyond the rope, mother and me, windblown, flaming in the grey

but held outside the field of play.

They, the men are at the centre of play.

Keeping a straight bat, no body line

Sticking to their versions of fair play.

Discussing tactics and predicting outcomes.

Crossing off the scores, tallying the losses from the playing fields of Eton as the deaths of Empire rise.

We will be called to the pavilions to provide sustenance at teatime and to wipe the brows.

To nurse the wounded and console the losers.

#mossmanpoet