Poem of the Day


Not Out

by N. McMullin



The Bowler,

Streaks in.

Long limbed,


With intent, he glares at me.



Under my helmet.

I tap my bat.



Fixated on the Bowler’s hand.


An Umpire,

Yawns behind,

Darkened sunglasses.

Bored. Daydreaming.

A seagull cries

From the boundary.


The red ball,

Careers down.

An inside edge.

Caught by the Keeper.

They call for it.



The Umpire.

Stands motionless.

I feign innocence.

He hasn’t heard it.

No finger is raised.

And I silently thank the seagull.






2 thoughts on “Poem of the Day

  1. Good on you, Neridah! Don’t walk! There’ll be plenty of times when the umpire gives you out, and you’ll know you are not. This helps to make up for those times.

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