Bradman’s Last Innings
Bowled for a duck, you could have asked for better…
From the first, through the years
of Depression, so many came to see you, forgetting
the dole queues, the homes dull with a long
democracy. And then the War, women
waiting for their Saturday oval husbands.
And peace. Padded up again, you gave people
something the world lacked: rules
to play by, winners, clear white flannels
sharp against the green turf. But it never works out,
never – four runs short of that century
average, at the last, betrayed by your own game.
from Light Pressure (1983)