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Wednesday, 30 March 2016

This is what Christchurch means to me

On rainy days
the redness from new 
Gray Nicolls balls 
scores into my hands 
and whites.

My dogs rancid poos 
linger 
and whenever she's done one,
you know.

But every game of cricket,
before I go on, I get licked by my dog. 
That is my secret 
to bat well. 

Afterwards, the soft white bread
laces in my hands,
engulfing the sausage and sauce.

That is what Christchurch means to me

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